Reborn as a Succubus: Time To Live My Best Life!-Chapter 44: The Prodigious Nim, Part Thirteen

{Armia}

As the Introduction to Spellcrafting classroom filled with chattering students, Armia sat at her desk, her eyes fixed on the door.

[I wonder where she is,] she thought. [Class is about to start, and she’s still not here. Neither is that kitsune girl.]

Armia shifted in her seat, her tail twitching behind her.

The thought of going to Melisa’s house after classes were done made her scales itch with discomfort.

It wasn’t that she had anything against the nim girl personally, but the idea of spending time in a nim household, surrounded by nim things and nim smells...

[It’s just for the project,] she reminded herself sternly. [Once it’s done, I won’t have any reason to associate with her outside of class.]

Still, the prospect made her uneasy. She knew that if she and Melisa continued to work together publicly at the academy, people would start to talk. They’d see the two of them, the darian and the nim, and they’d make assumptions.

Assumptions that could damage Armia’s carefully cultivated reputation.

[Like the old saying goes, reputations take ages to build and seconds to destroy. No, it’s better to keep our interactions private. Melisa’s house is the safest option, even if it does make my skin crawl.]

Just then, a light tap on her shoulder jolted Armia from her thoughts.

She turned, her orange eyes widening slightly as she saw Raven standing beside her desk.

"Hello," the black-haired girl said, her voice strangely monotone. "You’re Armia, right?"

Armia nodded, her brow furrowing slightly.

"I am."

Raven’s grey eyes seemed to bore into Armia’s, searching for something.

"I was just wondering about your relationship with Melisa. You two seemed to be rather close."

Armia felt her cheeks heat up, a rare blush spreading across her golden scales.

"W-What? No, it’s not like that! We’re just working on an assignment, that’s all. There’s nothing... nothing else going on between us."

Raven nodded slowly.

"I see. My apologies for the misunderstanding. And, thank you for your contribution."

Without another word, she turned and walked away, taking a seat at the back of the classroom.

Armia stared after her, her heart pounding in her chest.

[What was that about?] she wondered, her mind racing. [What a weirdo.]

---

Later that day, Armia stood at the front of the academy, her arms crossed and her tail swishing impatiently behind her.

[Where is that girl?] she thought, glancing at the ornate clocktower looming over the courtyard. [We agreed to meet here right after classes ended.]

Just as she was about to give up and leave, Armia spotted a familiar figure hurrying towards her.

It was Melisa, but something about her appearance made Armia pause.

The nim girl’s usually neat hair was disheveled, strands sticking out at odd angles like she’d been running her hands through it. Her cheeks were flushed, and her lips looked strangely swollen, almost bruised.

[What in the world has she been doing?] Armia wondered.

"S-Sorry I’m late," Melisa panted, coming to a stop in front of Armia, smiling. "I got... held up."

Armia nodded curtly.

"It’s fine. Are you ready to go now?"

Melisa nodded, adjusting the strap of her bag.

"Yeah, let’s head out."

The walk to Melisa’s house was mostly silent, with Armia lost in her own thoughts.

When they finally arrived, Armia couldn’t help but stare at the modest dwelling. It was so different from her own family’s sprawling estate, with its manicured gardens and marble fountains.

[I can’t believe I’m actually stepping foot in a nim’s house,] she thought, a slight shudder running down her spine. [What would Father say if he could see me now?]

Melisa pushed open the front door, gesturing for Armia to follow her inside.

Almost immediately, they were greeted by a purple-skinned woman with kind eyes and a warm smile. Beside her stood a little nim girl, her red eyes wide with curiosity.

"Mom, Hazel, this is Armia," Melisa said, gesturing to the darian girl. "She’s my project partner from the academy."

Armia straightened her spine, remembering her etiquette lessons.

If she was going to be a true noblewoman one day, she needed to act the part, always.

"It’s a pleasure to meet you both," she said, inclining her head politely. "Thank you for welcoming me into your home."

Margaret beamed, reaching out to shake Armia’s hand.

"Oh, the pleasure is all ours, dear! It’s so nice to meet one of Melisa’s friends from school."

Armia’s eye twitched slightly at the word ’friend,’ but she managed to keep her smile in place.

"Yes, well... we should probably get started on our project. If you’ll excuse us..."

Melisa led Armia down the hallway to her bedroom.

When Armia walked in, she was somewhat surprised at how... cozy it was. Sure, it was smaller than Armia’s room in her family’s estate, that was to be expected, but something about the warm colors and soft lighting made it feel almost inviting.

[Stop that,] she scolded herself. [You’re here to work, not admire the decor.]

But what really caught Armia’s attention was the sheer number of books and scrolls scattered around the room. They were piled on the desk, stacked on the shelves, even spilling out of half-open drawers.

"I see you’re quite the scholar," Armia remarked dryly, picking up a particularly thick tome titled ’Advanced Spellcrafting Techniques.’ "Is this all for our project?"

Melisa blushed, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly.

"Ah, well... Some of it. I’ve always been fascinated by magic, even before I came to the academy. I used to spend hours pouring over any books I could find on the subject."

Something about the way Melisa spoke, the passion in her voice and the sparkle in her eyes, made Armia pause.

She’d never seen someone so genuinely enthusiastic about learning before.

It was almost... endearing.

[No, stop it. Focus.]

"Well, since you’re such an expert," Armia said, setting the book back down, "why don’t you explain the basics of spellcrafting to me? I want to make sure we’re on the same page before we start brainstorming ideas."

Melisa’s face lit up, and she immediately launched into an excited explanation.

"Okay, so the first thing you need to understand is that every spell is made up of three main components: the incantation, the spellsign, and the infusion of Essence."

"I’m not a child, Melisa. I know that."

"Humor me," Melisa said. "The incantation is the verbal aspect, the words you speak to channel your Essence and shape the spell. The spellsign is the physical motion, the way you move your hands and body to direct the flow of magic. And the infusion of Essence is the ’fuel’ for the spell to work."

As Melisa spoke, her hands gestured animatedly, her voice rising and falling with enthusiasm.

Armia found herself watching the nim girl’s lips, the way they formed each word with such precision and care.

[They look really soft,] she thought, before immediately giving herself a mental slap. [What is wrong with me today?]

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Melisa barreled ahead, oblivious to Armia’s inner turmoil.

"Now, the key to creating a new spell is understanding how these components can be mixed and matched. Different pieces of incantations can be paired with different pieces of spellsigns to create entirely new effects. It’s like a puzzle, fitting the pieces together in just the right way to unlock the magic you want."

Armia nodded along, trying to focus on Melisa’s words and not the distracting curve of her mouth.

Armia found her attention drifting.

"W-Wait," she said, holding up a hand to stop Melisa’s monologue. "Can you repeat that last part? I... I didn’t quite catch it."

Melisa blinked, then smiled sheepishly.

"Ah, sorry. I tend to get a bit carried away when I’m talking about magic. Where did I lose you?"

[Probably around the time I started focusing more on your lips than your words,] Armia thought, but she quickly pushed that traitorous notion aside.

"Um... just now, the part about mixing incantations and spellsigns? Could you go over that again?"

Melisa nodded, and launched back into her explanation.

This time, Armia forced herself to pay attention.

But even as she listened intently to Melisa’s words, a small part of Armia couldn’t help but wonder...

What would those soft, pink lips feel like against her own?

[Perhaps I’ll find a human with soft lips like that. Maybe.]

She let her gaze drift, taking in the soft curves of Melisa’s face, the delicate sweep of her lashes, the enticing fullness of her lips.

Armia almost didn’t notice when Melisa abruptly stopped talking.

The sudden silence jolted her back to reality.

Melisa was blushing furiously, her cheeks a deep, ruddy purple. Her eyes were wide and fixed on a spot somewhere below Armia’s waist.

[What is she staring at?] Armia wondered, confused by the girl’s reaction. [Did I spill something on my pants?]

Curious, she glanced down at her lap... and felt her heart stop.

There, straining against the fabric of her trousers, was Armia’s life-long traitor, standing at attention.

Armia’s face instantly flushed a brilliant gold, her scales standing on end with mortification.

[AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!] she screamed internally, her hands flying to cover herself.

She and Melisa locked eyes.

It took everything Armia had not to throw herself off this place’s roof.