Unlike when he was with Scáthach, Shiomi's movements this time were exceedingly gentle and lingering. Even so, Skadi still failed to hold herself together, and in the end everything turned into a complete mess.
"How embarrassing. A goddess, yet reduced to such a sorry state," Scáthach said as she lay on her side beside Shiomi, looking at Skadi.
Skadi was sprawled across Shiomi's chest, her expression vacant, her body seemingly out of her control as it twitched now and then.
"Well, it was her first time. Going up against a shameless veteran like me, she never really stood a chance," Shiomi said with a helpless smile, gently stroking Skadi's hair.
"Shameless indeed. Even if I was the one who started it, I'm impressed you could stay so focused with someone else right there," Scáthach said, poking Shiomi's cheek with a grin that was both sly and suggestive.
She was referring to both her own round with him, and what followed with Skadi.
"Well… it's not like we're strangers," Shiomi muttered in his defense.
Scáthach only smiled, her gaze drifting back to Skadi.
"My disciple said you're not very good with warmth. But human body heat is different, isn't it? Quite nice."
"…Mm," Skadi replied quietly.
She was sensitive to heat by nature, yet the warmth of being held by him was completely different. Kissing, embracing, all of it felt wonderful. She was already close to becoming addicted.
He had once said that "the warmth of skin is never a bad thing," and now Skadi finally understood what that meant.
"Looks like it worked wonders," Scáthach said, tickling Shiomi's nose with a strand of her hair, making his face itch slightly.
Noticing this, Shiomi spoke up thoughtfully.
"You weren't exactly the same to begin with, but when you look this close, the differences really stand out."
"Oh?" Scáthach asked with interest.
Skadi lifted her head as well, curious to hear what he meant.
"Master's hair has a warmer shade of purple," Shiomi said. "Skadi's is more on the cool side."
Scáthach caught the tip of her hair and examined it, then smiled.
"That's true."
"They really aren't the same," Skadi agreed.
Without a mirror, she rarely paid attention to herself, and so she had never really noticed the differences between her and Scáthach.
"But the most obvious one is that Master is clearly a bit taller than Skadi," Shiomi continued.
"Is that so? I always thought it was just the shoes," Scáthach said, having never paid attention to such details.
In the Lostbelt, in the royal capital, or on the battlefield, it had never mattered.
"What else…?" Skadi asked.
Her voice sounded drowsy, still heavy with lingering aftereffects, clearly not yet fully awake, as though she were still immersed in the afterglow of a spring night.
"Hmm… aside from that, the way you feel is a bit different too," Shiomi said with a laugh. "Master's body is more flexible, while Skadi's is softer. Probably because Master focuses on physical training as a combatant, while Skadi, being more of a Magus and a goddess, doesn't really need to train."
Scáthach leaned in, smiling as she teased his ear.
"So you've started evaluating our bodies now. You're getting bolder by the minute, my dear disciple."
"It'd be strange not to care," Shiomi said, looking utterly innocent. "I'm just describing how it feels. And well… Master's hips are a bit more shapely, but Skadi's bust is a few centimeters bigger."
"So each has her own strengths?" Scáthach asked.
"That's exactly what I mean." Shiomi pulled both of them into his arms.
Skadi murmured softly, "I thought my first time would be more… ceremonial. I didn't expect it to just happen like this."
"Um… sorry…" Shiomi said, not adding that it was because Skadi hadn't refused.
"There's no need to apologize. It's just a little different from what I imagined," Skadi said. Her eyes were so soft and alluring they looked as if they might melt into water at any moment.
And she truly was quite soaked, leaving most of the narrow mattress damp.
"Still, the workshop's a complete mess now. We'll need to tidy it up," Scáthach said as she sat up and casually smoothed her disheveled hair. "Even if it's your place, it's not like only the three of us ever come here."
"It's fine, it's fine. That's on me. I'll clean it up later. No need to trouble you or Skadi," Shiomi said, starting to get up.
"Do you really have to clean it right now?" Skadi asked, tugging him back.
Having finally found satisfaction in both body and mind, she was now firmly in a mood to cling and be pampered.
For three thousand years, she had borne the burden of sustaining the Scandinavian world, with no one truly able to understand that hardship. Now, it was as if a storm long pent up in the sky had finally poured down, and she couldn't help but relax completely.
"It doesn't have to be right now, but your clothes are scattered everywhere. At least let me help gather them," Shiomi said as he helped Skadi sit up, still holding her close. "You'll need them sooner or later."
His hands, however, remained far from well-behaved, lingering over Skadi's body with slow familiarity.
"But after sweating this much, I should really go back to my room and take a shower. There aren't any facilities for that in the workshop," Scáthach said, stretching lazily. "You can sleep in my room tonight."
"I wouldn't mind—"
Shiomi was cut off mid-sentence when the workshop door, which had been locked, slowly opened on its own.
"I thought I'd come check whether you were staying up late working. Turns out you really are staying up late working."
Morgan walked in with light, unhurried steps, parting the space as she approached, and stopped beside the floor mattress, pointedly commenting on the scene before her.
It was obvious that the two instances of "staying up late working" carried entirely different meanings.
She was the only one who could enter the workshop from outside even while it was locked from within.
Such was the privilege of the official wife.
Used at a time like this, it carried more than a hint of catching someone in the act.
"Ahaha… um…" Shiomi started, thinking Morgan was angry and about to say something to placate her, when a stocking-clad foot suddenly pressed against his face.
The pressure was neither light nor heavy, more teasing than reproach.
That foot then slowly slid down his face, the toes tracing his throat, collarbone, chest, and abdomen, before finally pressing down with perfect force on a particularly sensitive spot.
Clearly, the moment she saw what was going on, Morgan had already decided what she was going to do next.
"My husband is my husband. I do hope you're not just a pretty flower with nothing behind it, and that you still have something left to bloom for me," Morgan said, her smile faintly dangerous, a light flush coloring her pale cheeks.
"So… you are angry after all?" Shiomi asked.
"Angry? Not really. Just a little unwilling to accept it," Morgan replied as she knelt on the mattress, cupping Shiomi's face and looking down at him. "Sneaking around and indulging yourself here behind my back, when even I haven't tried it yet."
"…"
With his mouth thoroughly silenced, Shiomi understood that cleaning up the workshop would, once again, have to be postponed.
It was now Morgan's late-night snack time.