And then there was Mira.

Mira sat frozen in her chair, her green eyes locked onto Viktor's face.

That soft, knowing smile on his lips.

That gentle way he'd handed the water to the stranger.

The way his hand had lingered on the young man's shoulder.

That calm in his movements, like he'd done this a hundred times before.

Her mind started spiraling.

'Wait.'

'Hah, so it's her...' Viktor sat back down in his chair with a satisfied sigh, reaching for his own bowl of porridge. He scooped up a spoonful and brought it to his lips, chewing slowly as if nothing had just happened.

Then he chuckled—low, rough, amused.

The sound sent a shiver through Mira's spine.

Viktor glanced at Elara again, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners as another soft laugh escaped him. "You really were starving, huh?"

Elara nodded quickly, still catching her breath. "Y-Yes... I haven't eaten in... days..."

Viktor's smile widened just a fraction. "Well, eat as much as you want." He gestured lazily toward the pot. "There's plenty."

Then he took another bite of his own food, chewing thoughtfully, his gaze still lingering on Elara with that same soft, knowing expression.

Mira's chest tightened.

'That look...'

She'd seen that look before. On Viktor's face when he looked at 'her'. When he looked at 'Helena'.

That gentle, almost indulgent expression—like he was looking at his woman.

'He only shows that look to us... unless we're—'

Her thoughts screeched to a halt.

'No.'

Mira's hands slowly moved to grip the edge of the table, her knuckles going white.

'No, no, no.'

Viktor reached for another piece of bread, tearing off a chunk and popping it into his mouth.

'Should I tease her more?' Viktor thought as a big doubt built inside him.

Then he leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table, his eyes never leaving Elara.

"So," Viktor said casually, his tone light and conversational, "where are you from?"

Elara blinked, still recovering. "I—um—east of here. Near the capital."

Viktor nodded slowly, his smile never fading. "Long way to travel alone."

"I... yes. It was difficult."

Viktor's gaze softened even more. "I can imagine."

Then he did something that made Mira's heart drop into her stomach.

He reached across the table—slowly, deliberately—and gently wiped a smudge of dirt off Elara's cheek with his thumb.

"You should clean up after you eat," Viktor said softly. "We have a pond out back."

Elara's face flushed red. "I—thank you—I—"

Viktor just chuckled again, pulling his hand back and taking a spoon, absentmindedly before returning to his food.

Mira's mind went blank.

'That touch...'

'That tone...'

'That gesture...'

Her breath came faster, her heart pounding in her chest.

'A man touching another man like that—'

'Unless...'

Mira's eyes darted between Viktor and Elara, her thoughts racing faster than she could control them.

'What if...'

'What if he's not just... what if he also likes...'

The word formed in her mind like a curse she didn't want to acknowledge.

'...men?'

Mira blinked rapidly, her face going pale.

'No. Impossible. Definitely not.'

But the evidence was right there. The way Viktor had moved for the young man without hesitation. The softness in his eyes. The care in his actions. The way he'd touched him.

Viktor didn't do that for anyone. Not unless—

'What if he's been... what if all this time, he's just been using us because there were no men around? What if the moment a pretty young man shows up, he—' (Absolute bullshitting.)

Mira's hands moved from the table to her head, gripping her hair as she stared down at the wood grain, her lips trembling.

'No, I'm just thinking wrong. He could be... no, he's definitely not...'

She glanced up at Viktor, then at the young man, then back at Viktor.

Viktor was smiling again—that same soft, indulgent smile—as he watched Elara finish another bowl of porridge.

'But what if—'

Depression settled over Mira like a heavy blanket, dark and suffocating.

'I'm overthinking. I have to be overthinking.'

But she couldn't stop the thoughts from spiraling, couldn't stop the horrible possibilities from crashing through her mind like a runaway cart.

'My husband... my husband... cannot be...'

Her chest felt tight, her breathing shallow.

'...bisexual?'

The word echoed in her mind, louder and louder until it drowned out everything else.

Viktor, completely oblivious to Mira's internal crisis, leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his bandaged chest.

His dark eyes fixed on Elara, who was still catching her breath, her hands clutching the now-empty cup like a lifeline.

"So," Viktor said casually, his tone light but laced with something sharper beneath. "Are you alone here, Miss..."

He paused deliberately, letting the word hang in the air.

"...ter?"

Elara's head shot up, her eyes widening.

For a split second, panic flickered across her face—raw, unfiltered terror.

Then she forced it down, schooling her expression into something neutral.

"Of course," she said quickly, her voice still hoarse. "I am... not."

She coughed again, taking another sip of water before setting the cup down with trembling hands.

Viktor's smirk widened slightly as he noticed her merchant badge.

Her arrival here indicated that, based on the timeline, she had run away and joined the merchant guild.

Arriving here made sense only for trade, and her arrival at his home was logical since he was the baron of this countryside.

Elara's mind raced.

'Wait. Wait, wait, wait.'

Her eyes darted toward the door, realization dawning like cold water dumped over her head.

'The carriage. I left the carriage stuck outside—'

She shot to her feet so fast her chair scraped loudly against the floor.

"I—I have to go!" she stammered, already moving toward the door. "There's—carriage—outside—stuck—I forgot—"

And then she was gone, bolting out of the manor like her life depended on it.

Silence settled over the table once more.

Helena blinked. "What just—"

Viktor chuckled softly, low and amused, as he watched the doorway where Elara had disappeared.

His smile didn't fade.

'Elara Vance,' he thought, his mind already piecing together the timeline. 'Shouldn't she be dead by now?'

He leaned back further in his chair, his expression thoughtful.

'Oh, no. That's right. It's still a few days away.'

In his previous life, Viktor had trade connections with the Vance family.

He remembered the servants gossiping—how if their young miss had been alive, she would've done a better job running the business than her incompetent brother.

He even got several images of her from loyal servants, since he was a prince of the Redhoow kingdom—on name only, as the merchant guild, assassin guild, and just about everyone else held true power.

He'd heard about the murders. About the cover-up. About how the daughter had fled and was never seen again.

And now she was here.

In his manor.

Eating his food.

Viktor's smirk faded slightly as a cold realization settled over him.

'This is too much.'

Helena. Mira. Kaida. Bella. And now Elara.

One after another, they'd all shown up at his doorstep like pieces on a board he hadn't set up himself.

Helena—his nanny who followed him into exile. Fine. Expected.

Mira—a desperate widow in a village he happened to pass through. Stretching coincidence, but acceptable.

Kaida—Mira's sister, a knight with connections. Still plausible.

Bella—an assassin sent by Elena. He could rationalize that. Elena could've sent anyone, and it happened to be Bella.

But 'this'?

Elara Vance showing up at his doorstep, fleeing from her home after abandoning her marriage and dead family too, that hadn't even happened yet in this timeline?

Viktor's jaw tightened.

'This isn't coincidence. This isn't even butterfly effect.'

His hands gripped the armrests of his chair.

'Someone—or 'something'—is putting them here.'

He glanced down at his lap, where the familiar blue interface of the system would normally appear if he called it.

His voice was low, almost a whisper, but sharp as a blade since he had already noticed changes in his own body. Unlike in his past life, in this one he had completely taken a 180-degree turn.

He had degraded from brain to dick—something that happening naturally and by only increasing libido was not possible.

'System, is there something I am missing here?'

The blue screen flickered into existence in front of him, invisible to everyone else, but it glitched, making his stance become more firm as he realized the system definitely had something to tell him.

'Tell me the truth.'

For a moment, nothing happened.

[***Notification Unaccessible: Host Race Integration: 16/100]

[***Threshold Unlock Condition Detected: Second Threshold (20/100) requires ONE (1) Mating Session with new female partner to activate progression.]

[***Main storyline deviation detected: Overwriting baseline commands.]

[Forbidden Information: The host's race does not qualify for further revelation.]

Viktor's eyes widened.

'!'

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