“Is your idea of ‘rolling out the welcome mat’ really that different from mine?”

Simon rubbed his temples, utterly flustered by this woman.

If it were just the two of them, he could speak freely.

But Tidelys was right here.

She didn’t know about the “Golden Orchid Harp” meal incident—only that they’d struck a card-production deal.

What if he accidentally let slip about the *indiscretion*?

Food or… someone else—either way, if Tidelys found out, he’d end up on the wrong end of a cleaver.

Wait. Tidelys probably wouldn’t even *need* a cleaver to take him out.

Simon’s head spun.

He scrambled for an excuse: “Ahem… as a man, isn’t it a bit improper to stay at a young lady’s house?”

“What’s the problem? Little Ti’s here too, right, Little Ti?”

Viana tilted her head down, smiling at the flustered Tidelys nestled in her arms.

“Ah… y-yes!”

Tidelys hastily looked away, suspicion flickering in her eyes.

*Why have Manager and Nana been acting so weird since earlier?*

*Manager’s been dead set against staying at Nana’s place…*

*And Nana keeps saying “Manager,” but her tone isn’t formal at all.*

*Am I imagining things?*

Tidelys decided to watch closer.

And so, each lost in their own thoughts, the trio arrived at Viana’s estate in the Royal Capital.

…

How did things end up like *this*?

Propped against the bath’s edge, Simon replayed the day:

Bolting from the academy straight to the Royal Capital.

Trailing Tidelys through streets all afternoon, hauling random ingredients.

Somehow ending up in a girl’s home.

Thankfully, Viana’s father was away—summoned by the king.

Otherwise, Simon’s embarrassment would’ve curled his toes through the floorboards.

But Viana puzzled him most.

From dinner to bath prep, she’d played the flawless noble lady to perfection.

If Simon hadn’t seen her true self before, he might’ve believed it.

Yet her tonight’s impeccable manners made him doubt.

*Was I overthinking it?*

*Were her earlier flirtations just… part of the deal?*

A strange pang of disappointment flickered in his chest.

Humans really are contradictory sometimes.

“Manager, are you done bathing?”

Tidelys’ voice floated through the door.

(Ladies first—he was last.)

“Coming.”

Enough soaking. Another minute and he’d pass out.

Dried, pajama-clad, Simon stepped out—only to find Tidelys alone.

“Tidelys? Where’s Viana?”

“She had an urgent matter,” Tidelys said worriedly. “The maid said she went out.”

*After a bath? What’s so urgent?*

“The young miss said it’s personal. Guests may retire without waiting,” a maid added.

Simon and Tidelys exchanged a glance.

As guests, they couldn’t pry.

Tidelys yawned, wiping her eyes. “I just wanted to say goodnight to Manager… Off to bed now.”

“Rest well.”

Simon waved. After soft “goodnights,” they slipped into separate rooms.

He scanned the room, lifted a blanket corner, and slid under before a yawn escaped.

Exhausted.

“Time to rest for tomorrow’s auction,” he murmured, eyes closed—then frowned.

“Why’s the bed sinking so much?”

“Take a guess?”

Simon jolted upright.

Viana, draped in a silky chemise, hovered above him, the velvet blanket arched suggestively.

Her limbs pinned him gently. A teasing smile curved her lips. Strands of hair tickled his nose.

Wide awake now.

“Viana?! You—”

“Shh…”

Her finger pressed softly to his lips.

“Why are you *in my bed*?!” he hissed.

“This *is* my personal matter. Like it?”

She shifted onto her elbows, forearms trapping his arms, breath warm against his ear.

Her skin, smooth as milk-blended coffee beneath silk, sent heat flooding Simon’s face.

“Get off! What if someone sees?!”

Her palm cupped his cheek. “Feel nice? I took a milk bath tonight.”

Each caress stoked her desire higher.

Simon struggled—uselessly.

*Do all otherworld girls have this much strength?!*

Staring at her flushed, lovely face, he nearly gave up.

Then—

*Knock.*

“Manager… asleep?”

Simon: !!

Viana: !!

“Down! Now! *Now!*”

Simon shoved her head under the covers, flattening her body just as the door creaked open.

Silver hair peeked in.

“…Almost asleep. You woke me. What is it?”

“Still worried about Nana. Came to check.”

*The person you’re worried about is currently on my chest. Don’t worry.*

Could he say that?

“Worrying won’t help. Go sleep.”

“I’m sleeping. Close the door.”

“…Goodnight, Manager.”

“Goodnight.”

*Click.*

Ten seconds of silence.

They burst from the covers.

“Go. *Now.*”

Viana didn’t argue. Slipped on hidden shoes.

She’d only meant to tease him—never expecting near-capture… by her best friend.

She peeked into the hall, confirmed emptiness, and vanished.

What she missed:

Tidris’s door had never fully closed.

The great detective Tidris had already uncovered the secret.