CHAPTER 102: SPOIL ME TOO

"He was a wall that one couldn’t come close to touching, even after training for dozens of years."

Kyone’s voice carried a note of reverence and bitterness all at once.

She sat at the edge of the bed, her pale fingers threading through Azel’s silver hair.

The motion was deliberate, playful even, but she could not deny the way his body eased under her touch.

She noticed every detail — the slight loosening of his shoulders, the way his eyes threatened to close, the nearly inaudible sigh that slipped from his lips.

Of course she kept stroking.

She loved the fact that her esteemed husband was feeling great from her hands.

"But still," she continued, her voice softer now, "until this day, that man remains a mystery even to me."

Azel, struggling to keep his composure, forced his eyes open and looked up at her.

"Why so?" he asked, his voice even.

Only the tiniest tremor of satisfaction betrayed him.

He couldn’t let her know that the simple act of stroking his hair was undoing all his defenses.

Kyone’s expression hardened.

The goddess of frost, known as unshakable and proud, suddenly looked almost vulnerable.

"Because even now," she admitted, "I’m not sure if I could beat him."

The room seemed to grow colder with her words.

Azel swallowed.

If a goddess — no, if this goddess who was so obsessed with battles was saying she wasn’t confident in victory, then just how powerful had that man been?

Kyone didn’t give him time to dwell. "When we fought, I was outclassed at every turn. He used styles similar to what you use, but like I said... your movements aren’t like his at all. They’re very degraded versions of his mastery."

Her tone wasn’t insulting, merely factual, and yet it pressed on Azel’s pride.

He frowned slightly.

"And I completely understand that," she added quickly, her eyes softening as she looked down at him, "but his movements were... erratic."

"Erratic?" Azel echoed, genuinely curious.

"Yes," Kyone chuckled lightly, her hand never stopping its slow rhythm through his hair. "The way his sword moved when he attacked was erratic and hard to read. You can usually predict someone’s strike by reading the subtle shifts of their body. That’s the essence of combat sense. But with him? It was like he tore apart the very rules of swordplay. He moved in ways that made no sense until they cut you."

Azel’s brows furrowed. That kind of unpredictability was terrifying.

"If you want to move the way the Hero moved," Kyone said, her voice dipping into something more intimate, "I can teach you... Esteemed husband. But..." She hesitated for the first time, her hand slowing in his hair. "I have a request."

Azel tilted his head against her lap, gazing up. "What’s your request?"

Kyone bit her lip.

For a goddess, such a gesture looked strangely mortal, almost fragile.

"Esteemed husband," she said softly, "I may have forced myself upon you. But I did it for your own good. I didn’t want your soul to dissipate because you pushed your aura too far, and—" she looked away, her pale lashes lowering, "I was intrigued. While I understand why no man would be interested in a woman like me... please, don’t neglect me."

Azel blinked.

For a moment, he wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly.

"I’ve been living my whole life waiting for someone I could truly marry," Kyone continued, her tone trembling as frost mist gathered faintly at her shoulders. "And I’ve finally found that person. So please..."

Her eyes met his again, crystalline and pained. "Spoil me too."

There was silence.

Azel’s chest tightened.

He had seen Nyala’s insecurity, her quiet desperation to be seen as more than a goddess bound to her divinity and wanting to enjoy the things humans did.

And now, here was Kyone revealing the same kind of vulnerability.

’I swear these goddesses are so cute,’ he thought with a sigh.

They weren’t perfect beings.

They were women, burdened with the weight of eternity, simply craving the same warmth any mortal would.

"Kyone..."

Her name left his lips softly.

She looked down at him, uncertain, almost afraid of his answer.

But Azel smiled.

"I may not know how to be a good husband... but why don’t you come and cuddle me?"

The tension broke.

Kyone’s eyes widened briefly, then softened until they glistened with relief.

She didn’t need to hear anything else.

She lay down next to him carefully, the bed dipping under her weight, and pressed herself against him.

’Reduce your strength so you don’t harm esteemed husband,’ she reminded herself, her divine aura coiling tightly inward.

Even holding back, her presence was overwhelming, but she tried — tried with all her might to be gentle.

Her head found his chest, and she nestled closer, letting his warmth seep into her.

Then, almost shyly, she inhaled.

His scent.

It was maddening — it was rich and had everything she didn’t know she craved until now.

"I’ll stay with you forever," she whispered into him, a vow sealed in frost.

Azel’s eyes grew heavy.

The rhythm of her breathing against him, steady and protective, lulled him into relaxation.

After a while, he asked quietly, "Do you think I can learn how to move like the Hero?"

Kyone’s lips curved faintly against his chest.

"Yes," she murmured. "But it will require a lot of breaking of bones. And reshaping your sword style."

She closed her eyes, already imagining the training to come. "Don’t worry. You’ll learn while you’re in the city."

"Okay," Azel replied, his voice low, peaceful.

He trusted her.

For a moment, the world outside the room didn’t exist.

There was only her body against his, her frosty aura carefully subdued so it wouldn’t freeze him, and his quiet heartbeat that she wanted to memorize forever.

Then —

Creak.

The door opened.

Azel blinked and turned his head just as a familiar golden-haired goddess poked her head inside.

Nyala.

Her eyes went wide, taking in the sight of her fellow goddess pressed against Azel’s chest.

Her lips parted.

Then —

"Cheater!" she exclaimed, pointing dramatically as she rushed forward.

Kyone sat up slightly, startled, but Azel barely had time to react before Nyala dove onto the bed and pressed herself against his other side, snuggling close with a pout.

"Unfair! You were supposed to be resting with me!" Nyala accused, glaring daggers at Kyone even as she wrapped herself tighter around Azel’s arm.

Azel let out a long sigh, his lips twitching despite himself.

His life was becoming dangerously complicated...

Kyone pressed tighter against him but he had to admit, the women in this world were beyond cute.