Yian leaned closer to Setan, lowering his voice into a low, conspiratorial murmur.
"From now on, whenever you need ointment on those scratches, you find an excuse to have Nina apply it for you. And while her hands are on you, you get as close to her as you physically can."
He began ticking points off on his fingers like a veteran commander mapping out a military campaign.
"Start with the ordinary, harmless injuries first. Get her used to touching you. Then, slowly work your way to the more... private ones."
A thoroughly mischievous grin split his face. "And while she's treating you, don't forget to play up the pain a little. Act pitiful. The more her heart aches for you, the better your chances."
His gaze drifted downward, scanning his son's formidable frame before settling pointedly on Setan's upper thigh. With a shameless smirk, he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
"Any injuries around there?" He chuckled softly. "Trust me, that location yields... exceptional results."
