Getting spoiled in a woman dominating world-Chapter 105: A little talk with Florence [2]

Brandon’s gaze squinted for a second as he looked at her serene face.

"I wanted to ask you about something," he said quietly, not wanting to disturb the soft hush that had settled over the terrace.

Florence turned her head slightly and raised an eyebrow "Oh?"

"About Eira’s father..."

Florence almost choked on her wine, hearing the question.

The wine she had just sipped caught in her throat, and she quickly turned her head to the side, coughing once as she dabbed the corner of her mouth with her fingers.

Brandon was surprised and hurriedly held the wine bottle in her hand "Sorry..."

She gulped the wine in her mouth and shook her head with a gentle laugh "Its okay, the question just caught me off guard."

Hearing this, Brandon just smiled wryly, and she rubbed her lips with the back of her palm "Eira’s father.. hmmm."

She shrugged casually "Who knows..."

Eh? Brandon blinked in surprise and tilted his head slightly "Did he go missing or something?"

With a shake of her head, Florence replied "No, not like that. I don’t even know who her father is."

"Pfft."

Brandon almost spit out the wine he had just drunk.

He forced it down with effort, coughing into the back of his hand as his eyes widened. "You’re not serious..."

Seeing his reaction, Florence couldn’t help but laugh "Hahaha... I’m very serious. Dead serious, in fact."

Brandon wiped the corners of his lips and let out a deep sigh "Now, don’t play with me Florence..."

Florence giggled softly "I am not lying. I truly don’t know who the fathers are for two of my daughters."

Fathers?

Brandon got even more confused "Huh?"

Florence let out a deep sigh "I had my daughters through artificial insemination. You know, from the sperm bank."

Hearing this, Brandon sat there in silence and Florence continued "Bleauforts have always been matrilineal. Our legacy, our assets, our names... they pass from mother to daughter."

"And there’s a pressure, a very old one, to keep the bloodline clean and the control absolute."

"Something the other noble houses, the Five Great Houses, all follow in their own twisted ways."

With a sigh, she spoke "You know this world, Brandon... women hate men and look at them like trash."

"Objectify them. Enslaving them with rules. Call them weak, or useless, or dangerous."

"And noble women from the Five Great Houses? They considered it a shame to even have sex with a man and were too prideful."

She passed and looked at him "And if a boy was born through this artificial insemination, the child would be killed instantly."

Brandon’s gaze trembled upon hearing this.

Florence’s smile turned bitter "When I was younger, barely past twenty, I was already the heir to the Bleaufort name. My mother was grooming me for succession while carving my soul with all her expectations."

"Politics, power struggles, etiquette, alliance-building—I was neck-deep in it before I even finished my studies."

She stared into her glass again, her voice softening. "My mother hated men. Utterly. I don’t know why."

"Maybe a bad experience, maybe something from her past, or maybe it was just drilled into her from birth like all the rest. But me..." she hesitated, a wistful smile forming on her lips "I never really did."

She shook her head "I remember once, I was in my room, holding a little porcelain doll I had named after a boy I saw on television. Just a singer. He had this beautiful voice."

"I told my mother I wanted to have a son one day. That I thought boys were cute. That I... wanted to raise one, dress him up, and teach him music and manners."

Florence let out a humorless laugh, tinged with sadness. "She slapped the doll out of my hands. Screamed at me. Said if I ever dared to give birth to a boy, she would kill the child herself."

"Well, fortunately, two of my children are daughters."

Florence turned to Brandon again and her expression softened "My mother taught me to hate men, but I never passed that hate down. I made sure Eira grew up knowing men weren’t to be feared or scorned."

Her voice lowered, as if confessing a secret "I don’t like this world, Brandon. Not the way it handles people."

"I may wear the mask when I have to... but I’ve always hated it deep down."

Brandon’s gaze never wavered as she spoke. freёwebnoѵel.com

And slowly, he set his wine bottle aside, then reached over and gently placed his hand on hers, curling his fingers softly around hers.

Florence turned to look at him and a genuine smile spread across her lips "Thank you for hearing me out.."

Brandon smiled warmly "I am happy you shared it with me."

She leaned to him, resting her head on his shoulder as her hair brushed his cheek and a deeper sort of comfort settled over her.

She stayed like that, nestled against him, for a long breath before murmuring with a touch of wistful fondness, "Well... now I have a son, I guess."

With a nod, he replied "Yeah, surely I can be your son if you want."

She gave a small, quiet hum of approval, and then delicately, she raised her hand, the one he wasn’t holding, and gently brought it up to his face.

Her fingers, light as silk, traced the side of his cheek, brushing across the curve of his jaw.

"Then I am the luckiest mother to have a good son like you."

Brandon leaned into her touch and Florence’s lips curled into a playful smile as she tilted her head slightly to the side.

And then, without warning, she gave his cheek a sharp little pinch, her painted nails pressing in just enough to make him flinch in surprise.

"Eek—hey!" Brandon gave a surprised yelp and turned toward her with a startled laugh.

Letting go, Florence chuckled as the teasing tone she often used was now laced with genuine affection.

"There," she said, brushing her fingers against his cheek one last time. "Just had to make sure you were real. Sometimes, sweet things like this feel like a dream."

Brandon rubbed his cheek dramatically, though he was smiling. "Well, I am real, and I think I’m going to have a bruise now."

She patted his shoulder "Oh, don’t worry... Mom will put on some medicine for you."

Brandon let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "With that kind of pampering, I might start picking up fake injuries more often."

Still smiling, Florence leaned forward and carefully set the wine bottle down in the sand, making sure it was nestled firmly so it wouldn’t tip.

She gently stood up, stretching her arms upward and her back arched delicately, her fingers reaching toward the stars as she let out a soft sigh of relief.

"Well," she said, letting her arms drop, "it’s getting late. We should go have dinner."

Looking at him, she extended her hand "Come on, sweetheart."

He looked down at her hand, then into her eyes, and took it without hesitation.

Her fingers were cool from the wine bottle, but her grip was firm.

She gave a small tug, pulling him up from the slight slope of the beach before releasing him with a soft, playful little push once he was steady on his feet.

They began walking slowly through the sand, side by side.

Brandon looked at Florence’s face and smiled in his heart.

After having a good talk with her, he felt that he had gotten a little closer to her.