Mira's fingers twitched first, then her eyes fluttered open slowly, the dim light of early morning filtering through the cracked window. Her hand moved instinctively across the bed, searching for warmth, for the solid presence that should have been there.

Empty space.

Her palm pressed against cool sheets, finding nothing but hollow fabric between her fingers.

"Young lord...?" she muttered, her voice thick with sleep as she slowly sat up, blinking away the fog in her mind.

Viktor wasn't there.

She turned her head, squinting in the low light. Helena was curled up on the far side of the bed, one arm draped protectively over Toby, who was nestled against her like a small kitten. Both were breathing deeply, lost in sleep.

But no Viktor.

Mira's brow furrowed. Why would he be awake now? Her mind started turning, trying to piece together reasons as she carefully slid off the bed, making sure not to jostle Toby or wake Helena. Her bare feet touched the cold floor, and she moved toward the door with practiced silence.

'Darling, where did you go?'

Her first thought was training. He was a nobleman, after all, and nobles trained at dawn—it was ingrained in them from childhood. But then she remembered the wounds on his body, the fresh stitches, the blood-soaked bandages she'd seen just hours ago. Her chest tightened.

'He wouldn't be that stupid, would he?'

Yes. Yes, he absolutely would.

The thought made her move faster, slipping through the doorway and into the dim hallway. The manor was quiet, still sleeping, but there was a faint sound somewhere—distant, muffled. She moved toward it, her worry growing with each step.

'It's only the second day since the incident. If he's doing training exercises now with those wounds...'

Her jaw clenched. She'd drag him back to bed herself if she had to.

Mira moved through the corridor, her eyes adjusting to the darkness, her ears straining for any sound. The hallway opened up into the larger hall room ahead, and she was about to call out when she suddenly halted, her breath catching.

She ducked behind the corner, peeking around the edge.

Kaida was there.

And she was... carrying Viktor?

No, not quite. She had him half-draped over her shoulder, one arm hooked under his knees, the other supporting his back as she struggled to move him. He looked limp, unconscious, his head lolling against her shoulder. His larger frame made him look almost like an oversized teddy bear in her arms, swaying precariously as Kaida took another unsteady step forward.

Mira blinked, her surprise quickly morphing into something else.

A slow grin spread across her face.

'Oh, this is perfect.'

She could practically hear Viktor's voice in her head: 'I hope you praise me, husband.'

Her eyes scanned the floor nearby, landing on a small glass bottle sitting on a dusty shelf. Without hesitation, she reached out, grabbed it, and with a flick of her wrist, sent it rolling silently across the floor—right into Kaida's path.

Kaida's foot caught the bottle mid-step.

"Wha—!"

Her balance shattered. Her arms flailed, trying to keep hold of Viktor, but gravity had other plans. She stumbled forward, twisting as she fell, and instead of dropping him, she went down backward—straight toward the old sofa against the wall.

THUD

"Agh... oww..."

Kaida's back hit the sofa with a heavy thud, and Viktor's body fell on top of her, his weight pinning her down as the wooden frame of the sofa groaned and 'snapped' beneath them. They both crashed through, landing in a tangled heap of limbs and broken furniture.

Viktor jolted awake with a sharp intake of breath, his eyes snapping open.

The first thing he saw was Kaida's face—inches from his own. Her red hair was a mess, splayed across the cushions. Her half-scarred face was flushed, her eyes wide with shock and embarrassment, her lips parted in surprise.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Then Viktor's lips twitched.

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest.

"Are you trying to take advantage of me in this situation, huh?" he murmured, his voice rough with sleep but laced with amusement.

Kaida's face turned 'crimson'.

"Get 'off'—!" She shoved at his chest, trying to push him away, but he was heavy, and the broken sofa wasn't helping. "You—this isn't—I didn't—!"

"What—N-NO?!—How can you do this to your brother-in-law!?"

Both of them froze.

Mira stood in the doorway, her eyes wide with mock horror, one hand pressed dramatically to her chest.

Kaida's eyes went even wider. "Wait—no—it's not like that!" She scrambled beneath Viktor, her voice rising in panic. "I was just—he fell—there was a bottle—!"

Mira's gaze swept over the scene: Viktor sprawled on top of Kaida, their faces inches apart, the broken sofa beneath them, Kaida's flushed face and messy hair.

She averted her gaze, turning her head to the side with exaggerated shock.

"I... I can't believe this," Mira said, her voice trembling just enough to sound genuine.

"Mira, wait—!" Kaida tried to sit up, still pinned under Viktor's weight. "Listen to me! It's not what you think! I was carrying him because he passed out, and then I tripped, and—"

Viktor, still half-asleep and thoroughly amused, realized exactly what Mira was pulling off.

His wife was a genius.

A low chuckle escaped him again, and instead of getting up, he let his eyes slide closed, his body relaxing completely against Kaida.

"Viktor, don't you 'dare' fall asleep on me—!" Kaida's voice rose in mortified fury.

But he was already drifting, exhaustion pulling him back under like a warm tide. His breathing evened out, his weight settling more fully against her.

He'd let his wife handle things from here.

She was doing a damn good job of it anyway.

Kaida's hands pressed harder against Viktor's chest, trying to shove him off, but he was dead weight—completely relaxed, breathing slowly like he didn't have a care in the world.

"Get 'off' me!" she hissed, her face burning.

Mira stopped mid-step, turning back with a slight frown. "What are you doing?" Her voice was calm, almost chiding. "He's wounded."

Kaida froze, her mouth opening to protest, but the words died in her throat as she looked down at Viktor's face. His eyes were closed, his breathing deep and even. His skin was pale beneath the stubble on his jaw, and she could see the edges of his bandages peeking out from beneath his shirt—some of them stained with fresh blood.

She remembered the hours they'd spent in that dusty room. The way his hands had trembled as he hammered nails. The sweat on his forehead. The way he'd kept working even when his wounds had reopened.

Her jaw tightened.

"...Please help me, elder sister," Kaida said quietly, her voice losing its edge. "Remove him."

Mira's lips curved into a small, knowing smile. She walked over to the broken sofa, looked down at the two of them tangled together, then calmly took a seat on the intact armrest beside them.

"Lie down like that and let him sleep," Mira said, smoothing her dress. "He won't bite, you see."

Kaida's eyes widened. "Elder sister—!"

"So," Mira interrupted, her tone conversational, "what were you two doing outside in the garden?"

Kaida blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question. She swallowed, her face still flushed. "He... he was making a machine."

"A machine?" Mira tilted her head, genuinely curious.

"To make clothes," Kaida muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. "For you and Helena."

For a moment, Mira didn't respond.

Then a soft smile spread across her face, warm and genuine.

She looked down at Viktor's sleeping face—still pressed against Kaida's cheek in a way that left barely any space between them.

They were close enough that Kaida could feel his breath against her skin, slow and steady.

'Perfect,' Mira thought. 'First step complete.'

Kaida needed to develop feelings for him. And what better way than to let her see the man behind the perverted exterior? The one who worked himself half to death making machines for his wives. The one who couldn't even stand properly but still pushed through.

Mira stood, brushing off her dress with a satisfied air.

"Let's try the machine he created," she said brightly, already turning toward the hallway that led to the garden room.

"Wait—elder sister!" Kaida tried to shift beneath Viktor's weight, but he was too heavy. "You can't just leave me—!"

Mira glanced back over her shoulder, her smile turning slightly mischievous.

"Come on, he's your brother-in-law. Take good care of him." She paused, her eyes glinting. "Already told you he won't bite..."

She let the silence hang for just a moment.

"...but he might poke."

Kaida blinked. "What? Poke?"

Her eyes widened as the words sank in, and she turned her head sharply toward Viktor—only for her gaze to drop lower, toward where his body was pressed against hers.

There was something hard pressing against her thigh.

Her face went from red to crimson in an instant.

"Did he leave some tool in his pocket?!" she half-shouted, her voice rising in pitch. "What is 'poking' me on my thighs?!"

"Fufu~ don't hurt him, Kaida..." Mira burst into laughter, the sound bright and unrestrained as she disappeared down the hallway.

Kaida was left frozen, her face burning, her mind racing as she stared at Viktor's peaceful, sleeping face.

"You 'bastard'," she hissed under her breath, though there was less venom in it than before.

Viktor, for his part, remained blissfully unconscious, completely unaware of the chaos he was causing.

Or maybe he was aware.

It was hard to tell with him not moving.

Technically, something was definitely moving in his body... the thing between his thighs.

'...is it a hammer?'

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