Karl stepped out of Mia’s room and headed straight for the room he shared with Freya. He had no idea where she was—but no matter what, he needed to get back and shower first.

Hiding under Mia’s blankets earlier had definitely left her scent all over him. If Freya caught even a hint of it… he was done for.

He crept cautiously into the room. Seeing Freya wasn’t back yet, he quickly shed his coat, tossed it into the laundry basket, and dashed into the bathroom.

The moment warm water touched his skin, Karl let out a soft sigh of relief.

This world might lack Earth’s tech from his past life, but basics like hot water existed—thanks to being reborn into nobility. For common folk, a hot bath meant real effort.

As Karl rinsed under the stream, lathering shampoo into his hair with eyes closed, a soft warmth suddenly pressed against his back.

The tender, damp contact sent a shiver through every inch of his skin.

“You could’ve said something before coming in,” he murmured.

No need to open his eyes—he knew it was Freya.

Arms wrapped around him from behind, her voice a whisper:

“Can’t I check on my own husband while he’s bathing?”

“You should’ve warned me. Lucky I’ve got steady nerves, or you’d have scared me half to death.”

Being hugged out of nowhere while washing? Anyone would jump.

Freya chuckled teasingly. “Hmm? Guilty conscience? Afraid I’d catch you red-handed?”

“What could I possibly have done?” Karl kept his tone perfectly calm—but inside, panic surged.

*Because he had.*

He’d just seen his sister-in-law Mia completely naked.

The memory alone made him stiffen shamefully below the waist.

Freya, however, didn’t linger on the topic. Pressing her chest fully against his back, her fingers traced slow, deliberate paths down his spine—missing not a single inch.

“I heard… instruments sound better in the bathroom,” she breathed, leaning close, her lips brushing his earlobe. “Want to hear me play?”

Water rushed. Her sweet voice wove through the steam. An intoxicating pull settled deep in his chest.

“Yes…” Karl answered without hesitation.

“Beg me.” She stilled her hands.

“P-please… I want to hear you play.”

“Say you love only me. That you’ll never go to Eileen.”

“I love only my wife. I’ll never go to Eileen.”

Satisfied, Freya slid around him in the slick water, pressing her lips firmly to his. Karl tried to speak—but her kiss stole his breath, his tongue.

Then her body glided downward… past his neck… across his chest… tracing his abdomen… until…

…

-----------------------------------

Down in the kitchen, maid Ling gulped milk from a glass. Halfway through, clumsy maid Nana bumped into her from behind.

White liquid splashed everywhere—dripping from Ling’s chin, soaking her dress.

“Nana!!! Watch where you’re going?!”

“S-sorry! I slipped!”

“Ugh… Now I’m covered! I’ll have to wash everything again!”

-----------------------------------

The next morning, Karl woke up thoroughly satisfied. Freya was already gone—off for her usual morning workout.

He rose, washed up, and changed into casual home wear. Technically, Ling should’ve assisted him too, but Karl preferred handling himself. (Truth be told, Ling found it gross—a grown man needing a maid’s help.)

He headed downstairs to the breakfast room.

Count Watt sat at the head of the table, today’s newspaper untouched beside him. He merely glanced at the front-page headlines from afar.

Beside him, Mother Lucina sipped coffee slowly, clearly steeling herself to scold Watt the second he touched that “toxic-ink” paper.

Mia sat drowsy-eyed, body awake but soul still asleep. Across from her, Freya drank milk, beads of sweat still glistening on her brow from exercise.

Karl smiled and sat. “Good morning, Father Watt, Mother Lucina.”

Lucina set down her cup. “Good morning.”

Watt lowered the paper. “Good morning.” He didn’t dare touch it—just gestured for Ling to take it away. “Karl, a favor: a warehouse hand at the guild has a family emergency. Could you cover for him today?”

“Of course. Anything you need.”

As he spoke, Nana approached with a bowl of freshly cooked millet porridge. Though assigned to Mia, she helped with light chores—but her clumsiness made Lucina sigh.

*Slip.*

The entire bowl dumped onto Karl’s trousers—right on the most awkward spot.

“Eep! S-sorry!!!” Nana grabbed a napkin, dabbing frantically. Her chest pressed against his knee. Karl stiffened instantly.

“Huh? What’s this hard thing?” Nana tilted her head, pink hair sliding over her confused cheeks.

Karl snatched the napkin. “My keys! Front door keys!” He wiped quickly.

Lucina took a slow sip of coffee. “Nana. How many times this week? How many must I say it? Move slowly. Steadily. You’re eighteen—*composure* is key. We’re not rushing you. So why rush yourself?”

“Ugh… s-sorry…” Nana lowered her head, eyes glistening.

O(╥﹏╥)o