Natalie had made quite a mess. Not just her sloppy throat-fug of Camille, or when she'd violently rubbed Camille's saliva around her fad further ruined her makeup, but also the pool of cum that had covered Camille's uniform when the illusion had disappeared. Seeing how they o return to css, that wasn't great for staying inspicuous.

  Fortunately, Natalie had some fantastic loot from yesterday to help: the ing liquid. It could only do so much for ruined make-up, obviously, but when it came to scrubbing away cum stains and whatever those secretions from Camille's vines had been, it was a miracle cure. After rubbing their clothes dry with paper towels and waiting for the ing liquid to fade naturally—and it seemed to dry in clothing much faster, rather than leaving an oily residue like it did when applied on skin—they even mao bee presentable before css ehey returo the sparring courtyard shortly.

  Which wasn't to say that their indiscretionary excursion had gone unnoticed. Instructor Robin's silver eyes locked owo of them as soon as they walked in. Her expression stayed ral, no implication or suspi on her face, but heless, Natalie had to repress a flush as silver eyes tracked her around, making a point of notig her absenatalie tried to aal. Did she know what they'd been up to? Or have suspis? More importantly, would she say anything about it?

  Even worse, the older woman's attention lingered on Natalie through the rest of the css. And Natalie found the ao her question after the bell rang: the tall Theliosian woman—white hair like Sofia's—waved Natalie over for a word as everyone, including Camille, filtered away. Camille hesitated as she saw Natalie being fronted, shrugged, and mouthed 'good luck' before she went. Jordan likewise spared her an amused look, though her general expression said more along the lines of, 'you get what you deserve', than anything.

  Natalie wondered if her behavior had finally caught up with her. Why else would Instructor Robin pull her to the side? The instructor didn't hasten to expiher: she simply studied Natalie, arms crossed as she sidered—well, who knew what?

  "So, uh," Natalie said, uo suffer through the awkward silence. "Is there anything I do for you, ma'am?"

  Cool silver eyes flicked up and down Natalie, and a prim eyebrow arched nearly mogly. From what Natalie had seen of Instructor Robin, the woman was a stalrofessional, br no ineffid, while ly stony, definitely not a woman who could be described as 'warm and friendly' in any capacity. Along with holding great respect for her—as Natalie did most bat instructors at Te, sidering the reputation required to even earn a spot at the prestigious academy—Natalie quite liked the woman. Which robably why her cheeks were fming at potentially being caught, and also at how she had chosen to py dumb in front of her. Maybe hoy would be better. Or at least more respectful, not insulting the Instructor's intelligence.

  "We do, unfortunately, o have this discussion," Instructor Robin said, uncrossing her arms. "As my student, your well-being is my . I've seen too many promising young men and women have their careers stifled through imprudent decisions. And from what I've seen of you in css, Natalie, you are exceptional in both thards. Your potential, and your tendency toward rashness."

  "Uh," Natalie said. "Thank you?"

  "Tell me. You have at least been using prote?"

  Prote?

  Natalie's brain short-circuited. She had expected a scolding, but—she was being asked if she'd used prote?

  "S-Sorry?"

  "s, Natalie," Instructor Robin said. "If you're so unwisely skipping my instru time to indulge iiations, then you're doing so with the minimum amount of forethought, I hope. As I said—you're my student, so it is my ."

  Natalie's mouth opened and closed as she floundered for a response. Beyond the mortification of this versation in general, the words indicated that Instructor Robin knew about—well, her cock. And how? Was her skirt hidihahought? Maybe that was fair, especially in a bat situation, with Instructor Robin analyzing her. But so were the rest of her cssmates. Did that mean everyone knew, by this point? Maybe hoping it remained a secret had been too hopeful.

  "What?" Natalie stuttered out, reflexively choosing to keep pying dumb. "Oh, no. It's not like that. Me and Camille, actually— we were just— we were—"

  Instructor Robin's expression was so distinctly unimpressed that her denial quickly dried up. Her face burned even hotter.

  "We aren't risking anything," she muttered, not meeting the older woman's gaze. "So, yeah. Nothing to worry about."

  Though not thanks to s, specifically.

  "That's one relief," Instructor Robin said, uurbed at the awkward topic. "Regardless, allowing yourself to be distracted so easily is ing, especially given how much promise you show. I've been impressed with yrowth over the st few weeks, Natalie, and this time in your life is critical. It would be unfortunate if you were to let it slip away for what are, ultimately, fleeting distras, no matter how entig they feel in the moment."

  Well, actually, Natalie's css required her to get id. So, Instructor Robin wasn't wholly corre givihis lecture. If admittedly there were better times to be sneaking off with Camille than during bat instrus. At the very least, Natalie should be skipping academics—that part didn't matter nearly as much as Instructor Robin's css.

  "I'll keep that in mind," Natalie said. "S-Sorry."

  She felt like she might die on the spot. Of any figure of authority, Instructor Robin might be the person she least wao be fronted by. It was just—well, unbelievably mortifying. More than it maybe should be.

  Though why Robin specifically? Natalie khe answer, even if she shied away from it: because she was hot, an experienced delver and so someone she respected, and also, kind of intimidating. Not that Natalie was crushing on her bat instructor, but—okay, actually, yes, maybe a little bit.

  Instructor Robin hummed in disapproval. "Please do. I only want what's best for you. Though, I won't bebor the point. You've heard what I have to say."

  She stepped forward, abruptly settling a hand on Natalie's shoulder. Just as surprisingly, it slipped down, taking a path down her shoulders, before settling onto the small of her baatalie froze, going as still as a statue.

  Instructor Robin leaned in and murmured, "And remember. As your primary instructor, I'm authorized to take matters into my own hands. If you prove yourself uncooperative, I'm not afraid of disciplining you. In taking a … direct approach to solving this problem."

  The woman's touch lihen drew away. She strode toward the exit. Before she left, she paused at the doorway. Her eyes were calm, unbothered, as strictly professional as ever. "Otherwise," she said. "Keep up the good work, Natalie."

  She left.

  Natalie stared at her.

  What … the hell? What had that been? An innuendo? Had she implied what Natalie thought? Except, besides the lingering tou her lower back, Instructor Robin hadn't acted at all differently from the beginning of the versation, or her usual self. Her tone hadn't beeely teasing, iven any indication that her words were, well, obviously suggestive. Her expression had been her usual cool, aloof self.

  But really. 'Discipline her'? Take matters into her own hands? Solve the problem personally? What was she suggesting?

  Surely not that?

  The notion was so absurd that Natalie nearly dismissed it as soon as it occurred. Except, maybe not? What else could it have meant? Natalie really, really didn't think Instructor Robi she would be assigning her after-hours ing duties. But what did 'personally solving' Natalie's problem—a problem which was, specifically, her being distracted with fug her cssmates—mean? What did taking it into her own hands imply? Especially bined with the uncharacteristic touch, the way she'd moved in closer and murmured into her ear?

  She wouldn't be getting any answers, unfortunately. And she had other csses ing up, however much the iion had left her brain scrambled. Natalie shuffled off into the hall. She tried, desperately, to repress the stiffening in her skirt. That would be awkward to expin, if someone saw it as she walked through the halls.

  But. Instructor Robin. And Camille, too. More problems, stag atop one another.

  Or, not problems. Definitely not problems. But plications, whiatalie really, really didn't need more of.