In the early morning, dim light filtered through the gaps in the curtains, spilling into the bedroom, falling warmly on Louis's open eyes.
He instinctively turned his head, feeling a familiar warmth in his arms—Sif.
Her short silver hair was messily draped over his chest, her small face pressed against him, a satisfied smile at the corner of her mouth as she slept soundly.
Originally, it was supposed to be Emily accompanying him last night to create an heir.
However, she was coincidentally on her period these past few days, utterly exhausted, so Sif considerately "substituted," slipping naturally into his bed.
Though nominally a "harem," the relationship between Sif and Emily was unexpectedly harmonious.
No confrontation, no undercurrents, more like pillars on the left and right, each holding their position and ideals.
Recently, he's been busy tracking the Nest's whereabouts, inevitably neglecting state affairs. Yet, surprisingly:
Sif and Emily managed everything smoothly.
