Receiving a satisfactory reply, Lisbeth finally nodded, giving Sophia a warning look that said, “You’d better keep your word,” before turning back to her own room.
Watching her daughter’s little-adult-like back, Tulia couldn’t help but feel both amused and gratified.
Once Lisbeth finally succumbed to sleep, Tulia, exhausted in both body and mind, also returned to her own bedroom.
She locked the door behind her and let out a long sigh, as if the weight of the world had finally lifted from her shoulders.
She sat down at the edge of the bed and took off her silk stockings, which had been hugging the graceful curves of her legs.
After a long, busy day, a thin layer of sweat had formed on her feet, and the silk stockings carried a faint warmth—her own unique scent.
On a strange impulse, she brought the soft stockings to her nose and gently inhaled.
Hmm, not smelly.
She nodded in satisfaction, her face breaking into a silly, relaxed smile.
This woman—so charming and mature in front of others, a captivating widow—had finally returned to being her true self, the one who could make such clumsy little gestures when alone.
As she savored this moment of comfort, unburdened and completely without pretense—
“Click.”
A faint sound—the lock being opened from outside—froze the smile on her face.
Sophia’s figure, silent as a ghost, appeared at the doorway.
Tulia’s body tensed in an instant. Almost on reflex, she hid the stockings behind her back, like a child caught doing something wrong, and barked, her bravado masking her nerves:
“What do you want?!”
Sophia didn’t reply. She simply walked in slowly and casually closed the door behind her.
Looking at Tulia, barefoot and brimming with vigilance, Sophia wore a mischievous smile.
Her gaze slid down, eventually coming to rest on Tulia’s fair, delicate feet, which were curled up slightly with tension.
“Obviously…” Sophia’s voice was low.
“To wash your feet.”
Tulia’s mind blanked for a full three seconds at that sudden, ambiguously suggestive remark.
Wa—wash my feet?
She looked at the hint of excitement in Sophia’s expression, inwardly screaming.
No, something’s off!
“Wh-what’s gotten into you?” Instinctively, Tulia drew her bare feet deeper onto the bed, warily watching this unpredictable woman.
But Sophia completely ignored her resistance.
With a graceful snap of her fingers, the Brass Basin in the corner of the room floated silently to the bedside.
At the same time, the water element in the air rapidly gathered, transforming into a stream of clear, warm water pouring into the basin, all without a sound.
When all was ready, Sophia knelt on one knee atop the rug beside the bed as naturally as breathing.
She lifted her deep violet eyes, gazing up at Tulia who sat on the bed, her posture as reverent as a Knight about to offer everything to her monarch.
“Foot.” She spoke concisely, stretching out her hand.
Tulia was so taken aback by Sophia’s smooth sequence of actions that she forgot to resist.
Sophia didn’t wait for consent. She gently took Tulia’s slender ankle and slowly placed her foot, which was still squirming a little, into the perfectly warm water.
“Mm…”
The warm water enveloped her foot, instantly washing away the day’s fatigue.
That comfortable sensation made Tulia involuntarily let out a soft moan.
Sophia’s fingers were long and strong, her fingertips slightly calloused as she began to knead the top of Tulia’s foot with just the right pressure, massaging every acupoint with waves of tingling relaxation.
Her movements were so skillful, so… full of longing.
It was as if she was handling a rare piece of Artisan’s Work; her fingertips slid from the rounded ankle to the dainty heel, then slowly cupped the delicate arch.
When Sophia’s thumb pressed, not too hard or soft, on the sensitive center of her sole, Tulia’s mind began to wander, recalling a humiliating scene from half a century ago.
That was their first meeting.
In that cold, lavish, prison-like Prison Hall, she had knelt on the ground like merchandise.
At the time, she knelt in ragged clothing on the cold, hard stone floor.
While high above, Sophia reclined lazily on a luxurious chair, one bare foot extended, the toes—like an Artisan’s Work—lightly lifting Tulia’s chin with a mocking grace.
“Dirty. Lick it clean..”
That was her command then.
At that time, Tulia could only obey like a docile dog, humbly and humiliatingly cleaning her “Master’s” flawless foot with lips and tongue, removing the dust that clung to it.
—So that’s how it is!
Tulia’s body trembled violently. As she watched Sophia now, head lowered and playing with her foot so intently—almost obsessively—a realization dawned clear and sharp.
—This woman has been a foot-obsessed pervert from the very start!
But…
Tulia looked down, seeing Sophia’s obedient red hair and her humble, lowered posture. A strange thrill, the satisfaction of payback, surged within her.
“Hehe…”
Half a century ago, it was Tulia who knelt on the ground.
Half a century later, their roles… seemed to have reversed.
“That child…” Sophia’s voice suddenly broke the silence, her head still bowed, her fingertips tracing, deliberately or not, the sensitive gaps between Tulia’s toes, sending tingles straight to her scalp, “…is already asleep.”
Those words, like a spell, shattered the last bit of “innocent” atmosphere in the room.
Tulia’s heart skipped a beat. She could feel that Sophia’s movements were no longer just about cleaning and massage.
At some point, Sophia’s other hand had seized Tulia’s remaining foot, lifting it from the water and resting it atop her own thigh, covered in a Silk Gown.
Then, Sophia lowered her head, and her warm lips pressed against the smooth, delicate top of Tulia’s foot.
“Mm!”
Tulia’s body arched, her toes curling uncontrollably.
That damp, warm, soft touch was more shocking than any caress.
“Shh…” Sophia raised her eyes, which burned with a dark, smoldering flame in the dim light. “Don’t wake her.”
Her kisses trailed up from the foot’s instep, touching every inch of skin like a prayer to a statue.
Tulia’s breath was completely thrown into disarray. She wanted to pull her foot away, but her body had gone limp as wet clay, powerless to resist.
“Here…” Sophia’s lips hovered a hair above Tulia’s rounded ankle, her voice hoarse, “…still so ticklish.”
Her fingers brushed lightly over the prominent ankle bone, teasing with the faintest touch.
Tulia shuddered, instinctively shrinking her foot away, but failed to escape Sophia’s gentle grip.
Sophia looked up at her, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and anger, a trace of laughter flickering in her eyes.
She slowly lifted her head and let go of the foot, now slightly reddened from her kneading, and looked meaningfully at Tulia.
“Your feet are clean now.”
She spoke softly, her tone carrying an elusive gentleness.
This pervert! Warden!
In Tulia’s mind, a precise word from her homeland sprang up.
Shame, anger, and the uncontrollable desire aroused by that misbehaving hand tangled together, throwing her mind into chaos.
“Let go!”
Tulia let out a low grunt, her body reacting before her thoughts.
The foot still soaking in the basin suddenly kicked back, sending the basin of hot water flying!
“Splash—!”
The warm water, mixed with Rose Petals, splashed all over Sophia, soaking most of her fine purple dress, which clung messily to her body.
Yet Sophia showed no anger—in fact, as that small, water-beaded foot kicked her chest in thinly veiled outrage, the flame in Sophia’s eyes only blazed hotter.
This was her little wildcat.
She fought back, she bared her claws, but under Sophia’s touch, she shuddered helplessly.
“Bang—”
Sophia swept the troublesome basin aside with a thud.
“Ah!”
Tulia only had time to let out a short cry before an irresistible force shoved her backwards, pinning her into the soft bedding.
The plush bed groaned under the strain.
Sophia’s body pressed down completely, her burning warmth scorching Tulia’s skin through the thin nightgown.
“Sophia! Let me go!”
Tulia struggled wildly, but her resistance, faced with Sophia’s overwhelming strength, only served to fan the flames further.
Sophia lowered her head, sealing all protests.
“Mm… uh…”
Gradually, Tulia’s resistance waned.
Sensing the change in her partner, Sophia’s lips and tongue traced down Tulia’s neck, leaving a string of dark marks upon her pale skin.
“Forty years…” Her voice was raspy as sandpaper. “Tell me, did you ever think of me? Not even once?”
All she received in return was Tulia’s increasingly rapid breathing.
Sophia pressed no further.
Tulia gave up fighting back.
Only the violent shaking of the bed and their intertwined, unrestrained breathing and sighs filled the room.
It was a wild release forty years in the making.
When the storm that had swept everything away finally subsided, Tulia was utterly drained, lying limply on the messy sheets, unwilling to move even a finger.
Sophia didn’t leave. She continued to hold her tightly, as though letting go for even a moment would cause Tulia to vanish.
She buried her face in Tulia’s hair, which smelled of sweat and desire, took a deep breath, then whispered in her ear, her voice full of exhaustion, fulfillment, and a possessive oath:
“This time, you’re not going anywhere.”
Dawn approached, the first rays of light yet to pierce the curtains.
Sophia opened her eyes soundlessly.
She turned to gaze quietly at the sleeping Tulia beside her.
After such a wild night, Tulia slept deeply, faint traces of tears still at the corners of her eyes.
Long lashes cast little shadows on her pale skin, her swollen lips slightly parted, breath steady and slow.
The blanket had slipped off, revealing shoulders and collarbones mottled with bruises—the marks of their passion.
Sophia’s eyes, now cleared of last night’s wildness, brimmed with a deep, overflowing tenderness and longing.
She reached out, her fingers trembling ever so slightly, gently tucking a strand of silver hair away from Tulia’s cheek.
The motion was as delicate as touching butterfly wings.
She leaned down and pressed the lightest, softest kiss to Tulia’s smooth forehead.
Then, without a sound, she slipped out of bed.
She quickly and quietly put on her still slightly damp Silk Gown, then considerately tucked the blanket around Tulia.
Finally, she took a long look at the sleeping woman, then turned, leaving the room like a ghost and gently closing the door behind her.
When Lisbeth got up early and stepped out of her room, she saw Sophia coming out of the second-floor guest room, as if she’d really spent the whole night there peacefully.