It's All Your Fault
Mikhailis stared up at the ceiling, still feeling the lingering warmth of the two bodies pressed against him. He muttered softly.
"I now have a clone..."
<Yes, a clone. One that you still have no clue how to utilize or connect with properly>
Rodion's voice chimed in, matter-of-factly.
<But that is fine; there's plenty of time to analyze it.>
"Yeah, you're right," Mikhailis replied. He tried to lift his body but realized that he was effectively pinned down. He let out a sigh.
"I'm still stuck, aren't I?"
There was a brief pause before Rodion spoke again.
<Your wife is currently on her affairs with the Saintess, facing national issues and duty as a queen, while you are here, enjoying company of two women who happen to be closest aides. If words were reach her—and I believe aware that—you would be, in word, doomed.>
Mikhailis let out a wry chuckle, a weak smile forming on his lips.