Tabula Rasa: Adventures In A New World

A glimmer of amusement dances across Rina’s amethyst eyes as she takes in the sight of these two cuddling lovers. “Yes, I would like to talk. Though we can save properly getting to know each other for when the food arrives.” She pauses for just a moment, glancing in the direction of her mansion. “Which should not be much longer now. The kitchen staff started cooking before I had even set out to find you two.”

The faintest of frowns finds its way onto Krvavy’s face, fed by the realization that this intimate seating arrangement is not going to change any time soon. The pinkish hue already colouring her pale cheeks grows a little more intense as the Elf sitting sidesaddle in her lap wiggles just a bit, the most perfect ass to ever exist pressing down atop her confined cock.

The smug smirk that Beryl shoots back at her barbaric lover makes it more than obvious that that was no accident. “Sounds good ta me. Really’d make this feel like a proper date, aye~?”

Rather possessively, a pair of white-gloved hands come to rest on Rina’s shoulders, drawing the softest of sighs past the Countess’ painted lips as they begin to lavish her with a loving massage. A glowering glare pierces through the shade behind that seated noblewoman, directed towards that tomboy.

“So, that other maid, Lynda...” Krvavy quickly speaks up, trying to move the conversation away from anything that could antagonize that aggressive maid, from anything that her tanned Elf could twist into being teasing. “She was kind and nice, but also a little... clumsy. She almost fell over a few times.” It may not be the nicest to talk about that poor girl behind her back, but...

Getting a little gossipy is better than having a knife driven between the ribs by a scorned servant.

“And you are curious, or perhaps concerned, about her legs?” A kind smile graces the Countess’ face as she relaxes into her maid’s massage. “Understandable. I did mention that she was still getting used to them while you two were present. That comment must have raised a few questions.”

Beryl shrugs, leaning back into the strong, black-scaled arm loosely wrapped around her waist. “Aye, but not important ones. We wouldn’t want ta intrude on ‘er privacy.”

Even more warmth enters Rina’s eyes, those bright amethysts showing some appreciation for that bit of respect, even if it is the bare minimum amount. “She would not mind at least some level of explanation: the girl can be a bit self-conscious about her occasional lack of grace. Though it is not my place to talk of the details, so I will spare you those.”

The albino maid’s rather hateful gaze weakens and fades as the conversation turns towards her younger coworker. She still continues to scowl, of course, but each passing second sees more of her attention turn towards kneading and rubbing her Lady’s soft shoulders.

“From what I understand, Lynda had been a sickly child.” Rina begins, a sad and compassionate sigh passing through her lips. “She frequently suffered illnesses and bouts of infirmity. And when she was nearing her teens she sustained an injury which, due to her poor health, resulted in both of her legs being amputated. One above the knee, the other below. Recently, she acquired prosthetic replacements, though those still cannot compare to the original.”

“So she ‘as ‘ad ta relearn ‘ow ta walk?” A tinge of sympathy is audible in Beryl’s voice, accompanied by a not insignificant amount of admiration. “Strong o’ ‘er ta keep goin’ on despite all o’ tha’.”

The Countess nods, pearl earrings tinkling like little wind chimes. “Absolutely. Lynda’s strength is also why she is here working as one of my maids. In her own words, she did not want to continue being a ‘burden’. She would not accept the prosthetic legs as mere charity, instead insisting that she ‘pay’ for them herself.”

“How long has she had them?” Krvavy curiously wonders, idly kneading her sweet berry’s tanned and toned thigh... through the soft fabric of Beryl’s sundress. Skin to skin contact would be better, but also far more inappropriate.

“Just over two years now.” Rina closes her eyes and relaxes even further into her seat, the gloved fingers of her maid moving with practiced precision, working away whatever stress her long day had brought. “Lynda’s continued clumsiness is, in part, due to her near complete lack of magical aptitude. Those prosthetics require a minuscule but constant amount of mana to function, to be controlled, and she cannot always maintain that connection. It requires conscious effort for her, you see. Add onto that the fact that her lack of aptitude results in a lack of haptic feedback... It is only natural that Lynda is a bit clumsy.”

“Huh. Interesting...” Krvavy’s brow furrows in thought, her emerald eyes focused on nothing in particular. “Just what sort of things can these prosthetics do?” She finds herself asking... before shaking her head and deciding to clarify her question. “Nothing specific to hers. Least of all because, well, I assume that she has a pretty basic pair, just being a maid and all. So I mean that more... generally, but also on the higher end?”

“Ach,” the Wood Elf gently whacks her barbaric lover’s barely covered boob, nearly causing the skimpy strip of green fabric stretched across that pale mound to slip aside. “Ya’d better not be thinkin’ o’ cutting off an arm, or anythin’ like tha’!”

A puff of air passes through Krvavy’s parted lips. Not quite a scoff, but close. “Of course not. I just figured that our Dwarf would be interested in all of this.”

Beryl cocks her head to the side, poking a pointy ear into the tit she just whacked. “Aye, she probably would be.” The fact that this Elf calmed down so quickly almost makes it seem like she wasn’t actually worried in the first place... “But she probably already knows ‘ow ta make the Dwarven equivalent.”

That exchange sees a warm smile spread across Rina’s face. Much to her maid’s displeasure.

“You already know how even mere toys can transfer the sensation of touch, Krvavy.” That statement sounds innocent, but the barbarian knows better. Neither the Countess nor Krvavy have forgotten what they both got up to the last time they shared a bed. “So I am sure that you could imagine what other features such prosthetics may be capable of. But, if you truly do want to know more... then ask Vera.”

The albino in question abruptly freezes, even her meticulous massage coming to a stop as her scowled glare returns in full force, pale pink eyes narrowing unhappily behind her thick glasses.

A pink-skinned hand, so delicate and graceful, gently comes to rest atop one clad in a pristine white glove, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “She helped Lynda acquire her prosthetics,” Rina explains, smiling up towards the maid looming above her. “And she also helped the girl get used to them, coaching Lynda on how to channel her mana in the proper way.”

Vera’s lips press together into a thin line. Her expression remains firm and unfriendly, regardless of how affectionately her Lady’s fingers may be caressing her own. “They can be made as durable as armour,” this antagonistic maid curtly states, being as blunt and brisk as she can. “Within the false-flesh can be hidden compartments, ideal for vials of poison, or weapons primed to spring out for ready use.”

“You have focused on the grim aspects again, dear...” A tinge of disappointment lingers in those slowly sighed words.

The jaw of that albino maid clenches. “They are artificially made limbs.” Her icy tone drips with venom, her hardened glare locking onto the Drakling. “If something is possible within their size, then having that as a potential ‘feature’ should be expected. This should not need explanation.” A hint of a huff, haughty and scornful, underlines that last sentence.

“Oh~?” A dangerously mischievous light fills that tanned tomboy’s blue-green gaze. “You ‘ave a brat too~?” She shamelessly asks, Elvish ears bouncing up and down in impish delight. “The sass can be quite adorable, aye~?”

“You dare –!”

“Vera,” the Countess calms her maid in an instant. Or she is at least able to restrain her maid’s anger in an instant. “Apologies, she is usually more civil.”

“Tha’ is no problem.” Beryl oh so graciously replies, lifting her head up to bravely meet Vera’s increasingly murderous gaze. “A bit o’ feistiness can be quite fun~. Few things’re better than chippin’ away at tha’ kind o’ attitude, findin’ the sweet embarrassment buried beneath~.”

“Beryl, please...” Krvavy slowly sighs, sounding slightly defeated. “Don’t antagonize her.”

“Ach, is tha’ wha’ ya think Ah’m doin’?” The caramel coloured Elf glances back at her Draconic lover, a single bark-brown brow raised. “Come now, ya should know better~. Ah’m just gettin’ ‘er all ‘eated up. Ah’m challengin’ ‘er.” Beryl lifts a hand and hides her mouth from all but Krvavy, her voice dropping into a ‘whisper’ that is anything but quiet. “Imagine ‘ow fun it’d be if she joined us in bed later, doin’ ‘er ‘ardest ta prove ta Rina tha’ she is better tha’ the two o’ us~?”

“Wh-what?!” Vera flinches back as if struck, nearly stepping out of shade and into direct sunlight. “Y-you...!” She stammers and stumbles, a look of pure horror on her face, insulted outrage mingling with the deep scarlet blush burning from within her snow-white cheeks. “How d-dare...!”

“As you can see, Vera is not open to that level of intimacy.” The Countess calmly speaks up in defence of her speechless servant, a smile playing at her lips. “Perhaps one day, but not any time soon.”

Beryl grins like a fox that has cornered a whole litter of baby bunnies, gleaming eyes piercing into the very soul of the maid who is struggling to meet her gaze. “Not goin’ ta give ‘er a little push inta openin’ up~?”

“No.” Rina flatly states, her tone devoid of positive emotion. “If she is not comfortable with it, then I will respect her wishes.”

“Fair enough.” As if a switch has been flicked, the tanned tomboy drops her teasing act, nonchalantly shrugging her shoulders as she leans back into the barbarian’s body. “Still can’t ‘elp but feel a little disappointed though. She seems ta ‘ave quite a nice figure, from wha’ Ah can see~.” This Elf just can’t help herself, shooting that scandalized maid an incredibly unsubtle wink. “Plus, Ah’ll freely admit ta bein’ attracted ta pale skin~.”

A flurry of emotions, almost all negative, flash across Vera’s heavily flushed face. Her pale, pinkish-white lips open and close a few times before she finally finds her words. “K-keep those uncouth thoughts to yourself, y-you miscreant...!”

What little restraint that the Wood Elf was able to muster is immediately abandoned, her long and pointed ears quivering with joy. “Aww~!” She so warmly coos, that affectionate sound only feeding the fire of this albino maid’s growing rage. “If ya weren’t already taken, Ah’d be makin’ Krvavy claim ya right now~! Ya are just so so so adorable~!”

“I am not!” Those vehement words are dripping with malice and hate, but all of that anger is unfortunately undermined by the fact that this maid chose to stomp a foot down right as she spat that out. So she just ends up looking a little like Thea, when that bratty girl has a bit of a tantrum. “I am not adorable! I am not cute! I am not any of those demeaning descriptors! I am a professional! I exist to serve Countess Alexandrina Yuliya Marzannavich, not suffer through your degenerate attempts at seduction!”

“Oh, ya snowy lil’ maid~,” Beryl exaggeratedly sighs. “Ya’re so innocent~! Ah am not tryin’ ta seduce ya~. Not yet at least~!”

That angry albino’s gloved hand suddenly snaps to the side, grasping at her black lace parasol and –

“Vera.” The Countess calmly states her murderous maid’s name, which is all it takes to force that furious girl to freeze in place. “Vera. Vera. I, for one, do think that you are cute and adorable~.”

The parasol falls down to the ground, its metal tip clattering onto stone. Only the faintest tinge of anger and hate remains on the albino’s face, replaced by an immense amount of flustered embarrassment. Her snow-white skin flushes an incredibly deep scarlet, spreading from her cheeks to her ears and even to the bits of her forehead visible past her dense white bangs. “M-m-my L-lady...!?”

Rina turns in her seat, facing her flustered maid. “That said... do mind your manners. You should not let a few flirty comments rile you up to such a degree.” She raises her pink-skinned hands up, adjusting the black bow resting around Vera’s covered neck. “Remain calm and composed. Do your best to ignore distractions. And,” the Countess’ fingers gently brush against her maid’s blushing cheek as she goes to straighten the girl’s glasses, “if you truly find the flirtation to be disagreeable, then politely but firmly tell them off.”

Those serenely stated instructions just seem to cause the flustered albino to grow even more embarrassed. “I know...!” She all but hisses, “I have been by your side for seven wonderful years! I am not an unseasoned novice still learning how to properly serve!” Indignation underlines those complaints, making her words sound far too whining.

“Then act like it.” The Countess’ tone cools, becoming icy and harsh. “Do not grab your parasol with intent to hit our guests.”

“It’s alright.” Krvavy awkwardly speaks up, her courteous smile wavering a little as Vera’s paleand unappreciative eyes snap towards her. “Beryl could have used a bit of a whack.”

“Oy!” The Elf protests, glaring at her Draconic lover. “Don’t act like ya wouldn’t ‘ave teased ‘er just the same!”

“No need for me to act, because I wouldn’t have.” Krvavy gently shakes her head, ignoring that tomboy’s disbelieving stare. “I may be a pervert and a degenerate and whatever else you want to call me... But I wouldn’t neglect the woman, or women, that I have in front of me just to go after another. You know that.”

Beryl scowls, looking a little upset... with herself. “Ach, ya’re right... Tsk, fine.” She looks across the patio table to meet Vera’s very unfriendly gaze. “Ah’m sorry fer teasin’ ya so much. Ya just remind me o’ our own brat, and Ah couldn’t ‘elp myself from pokin’ at yer nerves. It’s just too fun, ya see.”

Vera’s lips press together into a thin line as she remains utterly silent, seemingly refusing to accept that excuse of an apology.

A faint squeaking sound pierces the quiet air, growing louder as a metal trolley enters onto the terrace. “Apologies for the delay, my Lady.” The older woman pushing that cart politely nods her head as she brings it up beside the table, oblivious – perhaps willfully – to the tension she just intruded upon. “The wheels needed greasing. And what they received was evidently not enough.”

“That is no matter, Izolda.” The Countess casually reassures this other servant of hers, acting as if the previous conversation... both the good and bad parts of it... had never happened. “We were so busy conversing that the delay was hardly even noticed.”

A glance is spared towards the covered cart. “Would you like me to stay?”

“No thank you,” Rina gently shakes her head, the matching pairs of moon-like pearls that serve as her earrings quietly clinking together. “Vera can handle whatever needs may arise.”

“Then I shall take my leave.” That older maid bows at the waist, before turning and heading off without another word.

Though she may still be bristling a bit, heels forcefully striking the paving stones of this cozy courtyard with each step she takes, Vera does not need to be ordered back to work. With practice purpose she begins to unload that cart.

Krvavy’s carnivorous teeth soon find themselves chewing on the inside of her cheek. “I think you might need to get your own seat now.” She idly comments, eyeing the two plates and accompanying crystal chalices that have been placed very close together, at her end of this little patio table.

“Ach, not ‘appenin’.” The Wood Elf immediately shuts that idea down. “Ah’m not leavin’ yer lap until we ‘ave ta get up ta leave this garden. If tha’ means Ah’ll ‘ave ta ‘and feed ya again, then so be it.”

The pinkish hue that is steadily colouring Krvavy’s face makes it abundantly clear that she doesn’t exactly mind her sweet berry’s refusal. But still she sighs, trying to sound disappointed and defeated. Her smile undermines that act.

A metal cover is suddenly lifted into the air, releasing a puff of steam which carries with it a truly delicious scent.

“I do hope that the both of you find this meal to be agreeable.” The slightest tinge of concern can heard in the Countess’ voice, her uncertainty in Beryl’s palate – at the very least – coming through.

Vera gracefully serves her Lady, moving various bits of food onto the Countess’ plate in a rather pleasant looking arrangement. Steaming heads of broccoli and cauliflower are relegated to one corner, glistening as melted cheese is slowly poured over them in a gentle zigzag. Next comes a scoop of sautéed potatoes and diced carrots, those yellow and orange cubes tumbling over each other. The last empty spot is soon filled by a piece of battered meat, a dusting of breadcrumbs falling free as it is nestled in place. Poking out of the top of that breaded breast is a single bone, which is quickly covered with a little frilly white hat.

“Goin’ by the smell alone, Ah think we will.” Beryl honestly replies, smiling as she and the scowling maid briefly make eye contact. “Tha’ is chicken o’ some sort, aye?”

“Yes.” A breath of relief passing through Rina’s painted lips. “If you want to avoid using the fancy name for this dish, they are simply chicken cutlets.”

“Oh?” The Elf raises an eyebrow as she curiously glances down at her own plate, seemingly unbothered by the fact that each part of the meal is getting rather unceremoniously dropped in place. “Our girl ‘ad us make some o’ these a few days back, but they looked quite different.”

“From what I understand, the term ‘cutlet’ is rather vague and can be used for a variety of dishes. Including ones that contain no meat at all, oddly enough.” Rina shrugs ever so slightly, elegantly picking up some silvery utensils. “Even when all the ingredients are the same, there can still be differences brought out by the preparation. Such as this,” she taps the blunt edge of her knife against the little bone.

“Aye, ours didn’t ‘ave tha’. And Ah’m sure the stuff inside is a bit different too.” Considering that they cooked a bunch of wild game birds, that is almost certainly the case.

Rina nods, a subtle and delicate motion. “The bone being added back in is a signature part of this particular recipe, which is considered traditional here in Raseyne. So its absence is not a surprise.”

The tanned tomboy faintly furrows her brow. “Ach, its a shame we didn’t bring our ‘alflin’ along.” She idly states, glancing back at Krvavy. “Tha’ sweetie would’a loved ta learn some new recipes. And, if she could work up the nerve, she’d probably enjoy just talkin’ about cookin’ too.”

“You have a Halfling?” The Countess curiously questions, stopping partway through skewering a chunk of potato with her thin fork.

“Did Krvavy not mention ‘er the last time she was ‘ere?” Despite responding to Rina, Beryl instead meets her Draconic lover’s gaze.

“Uh... No, I don’t think I did.” The Drakling gently shakes her head side to side, growing increasingly certain of her answer with each second that passes. “We had her around, but she wasn’t part of our relationship yet, so...”

This exotic and elegant half Moon Elf sitting across from Krvavy (and Beryl) holds back a laugh. “My, you really are just collecting women of all races~. Should I be worried~?”

Vera purses her pale lips into a thin line, not finding even the slightest bit of amusement in her Lady’s joke. But she doesn’t let that distract her from pouring a rich, red liquid into each of the three crystal cups sitting on this table, filling them near to the brim.

“O’ course~! Ya’re courtin’ fate by courtin’ my dearest love~!” Beryl eagerly takes the opportunity to playfully flirt, ignoring the increasingly murderous gaze levelled her way by that bratty, albino maid. “This ‘ere is a rather possessive Dragon, one who can’t ‘elp but keep growin’ ‘er collection o’ women~!”

Krvavy very slowly sighs, idly cutting off a slice of her chicken cutlet. “You are making me sound a lot worse than I am, Beryl...”

“Oh, but am Ah wrong~?” That teasing Elf pokes Krvavy’s pale cheek. Only to preemptively pull her finger away a moment later, dodging a nibbling bite that wasn’t coming. “Am Ah~?”

“Behave yourself,” the barbarian breathes back, “and get eating before you earn yourself a whack on the head from a certain someone’s umbrella...”

Vera glares at the two cuddling guests sharing the same throne-like chair, her gloved hands clenching into fists. The albino maid continues to make her disdainful dislike known as she steps away from the table and returns to her place directly behind her Countess.

“Krvavy, I must admit that I had not expected you to return here with a companion.” Rina pops a buttered carrot slice between her painted lips as she casually moves the conversation on.

“Oh~? And just why is tha’~?” Beryl speaks up before her barbaric lover can, doing the absolute bare minimum to keep her playful tone from crossing the line into being flirty. “Did ya ‘ave doubts about our relationship~? Did ya think tha’ she was actually just keepin’ us all locked away in some cave, forcin’ us ta stay and be ‘ers like a real greedy Dragon~?”

“I would be lying if I said that a thought along those lines had never occurred to me.” The Countess calmly admits, her even tone making it clear that she means no offence. “But I never seriously considered it, and in fact quickly discarded such thoughts.”

Surprise fills Krvavy’s face. “Why?” She asks, blinking a bit blankly and honestly feeling a little flabbergasted by that statement. “I mean, I told you how I met them all. For the most part, at least... And those stories didn’t exactly paint me in the best light. I quite literally admitted to kidnapping two of them.”

“The Human and Dwarf, yes? Kidnapping is not the term I would use for rescuing someone from captivity at the hands of bandits or from the middle of a bandit raid. Even if you kept them afterwards.” A faint smile fills the pink-skinned half-Elf’s face, her amethyst eyes meeting the Drakling’s emerald pair.

Krvavy dismissively waves her fork through the air. “No matter what words you want to use, that is still what I did.”

“I am not here to argue semantics.” Rina idly shrugs, the movement of her shoulders drawing Vera’s attention. “It may be arrogant of me to make this claim,” she pauses briefly as her maid’s gloved hands return to giving her a slow, kneading massage, “but I am quite a good judge of character. And you, Krvavy, did not strike me as the type to hold women captive for your own enjoyment. The way that you spoke of ‘your girls’ made the affection and love that you hold for them feel completely genuine. Of course, that could simply be explained by layers of delusion, but that did not seem to be the case either.”

A lively, teasing light sparks to life within the tanned tomboy’s bright eyes. “Oh, she definitely ‘as some delusions~!”

“Yeah,” a heavy sigh accompanies that single word. “Like thinking that you can behave yourself without needing constant reminders.”

“Oy!”

A gentle smile plays at Rina’s lips as she watches the Wood Elf’s finger accusatorily squish into the barbarian’s pale breast.

“Well,” Krvavy chooses to ignore that literal prodding, “I couldn’t really blame you for thinking that I was some sort of psychopathic monster. So... thanks for not assuming that, I guess?”

“Do not forget that we spent the night together before sitting down and having a proper conversation.” The Countess takes another bite of her meal, relaxing into her maid’s massage. “You had me at my most vulnerable and did not try to push the limits of what you could do. So it would be quite hard for me to consider you to be a ‘psychopathic monster’. Though I will admit that your unique relationship is on the more questionable side. Had we started with that conversation at the very beginning, then perhaps I would think differently of you.”

“Right...” The Drakling idly nods her head, bringing a skewered carrot slice to Beryl’s lips in an attempt to make her sweet berry stop messing around and actually start eating. “Why are you surprised I brought Beryl along then?”

“Ach,” the tanned tomboy makes a disappointed noise, before swallowing the morsel of food that had all but been forced into her mouth. “My dearest love, do ya really need ta ask tha’?”

The barbarian blinks. “Yes?”

“Ya are possessive, protective, and a bit paranoid.” A pair of beautifully bright blue-green eyes roll in an exaggerated circle as the Wood Elf woman dryly points out those obvious facts. “Ah’m sure tha’ the Countess ‘ere picked up on tha’. Aye?”

“I would have put it more politely, but yes.” Rina gracefully shrugs, delicate fingers wrapping around the stem of her chalice. “Is there a particular reason that you did not come alone?” She curiously asks, breathing in the scent of her blood-red wine before taking a small sip of it.

“Aye, quite a few really.” Beryl once again speaks up before Krvavy can, an advantage of focusing on the conversation rather than eating. “The main one bein’ tha’ it wasn’t ‘er choice: it was mine~!” She giggles rather triumphantly as those words draw a defeated sigh from her Draconic lover. “We ‘ave a whole list o’ things ta buy, and she can’t be expected ta carry everythin’ back ‘ome. Plus, someone needed ta come along and see wha’ kind o’ woman ya are~.”

An understanding smile graces the Countess’ elegant visage. “I cannot blame you for wanting to meet me. I would do the same if another woman intruded on what I have with my Vera.” The albino maid jumps slightly at the mention of her name, a pink hue filling those pale white cheeks once more. “Is there anything I can do to help you with your shopping?”

“Nothin’ like wha’ ya did wit’ the seeds last time.” Beryl gently shakes her head. “And speakin’ o’, Ah really do need ta thank ya fer tha’~.” She playfully and unnecessarily winks, making her implication obvious enough to revitalize Vera’s glare.

“Well,” Krvavy nonchalantly presses some food against her Elf’s lips, making that tomboy shut up and eat. “We do have a few letters to deliver for our Halfling, but we also aren’t sure how to actually get them sent out...”

“That is something I could easily have taken care of for you.” Rina reassures, placing her utensils down and going to take another small sip of her wine.

“Mnhh, my dearesht lovhe.” Beryl grabs at her Draconic lover’s wrist, keeping another forkful of food from being forced into her full mouth. Her nimble fingers tighten their grip as she redirects that fork towards Krvavy’s lips instead, giving her time to swallow. “Just what sort o’ date is this?! Ya can’t be talkin’ business! Ah still ‘ardly know this beautiful woman sittin’ across from us~!”

“Hahaha~!” The Countess gracefully raises a hand to obscure the sight of her parted lips as she lets out that joyous laugh. “What a lively couple you two are~!”

“Oh, this is nothin’~!” The tanned tomboy grins at that pink-skinned half-Elf. “Don’t forget, she ‘as four other girls~! There is only so much tha’ this fierce Dragon can do ta keep us all in line~!”

“It’s not that hard...” Krvavy quietly grumbles back, retaking control of her fork.

“Aye, but only because Ah’m usually better behaved~!”

A dry, deadpan expression fills the Drakling’s face. “That really isn’t something to sound so smug about.”

Beryl’s long and pointed ears happily wiggle up and down. Her blue-green eyes stare into the emerald pair of her Draconic lover, playful love meeting a slightly exasperated squint.

“Ahem.” Vera unhappily clears her throat, which does nothing to prevent the two lovers’ lips from pressing together.

“Hush, dear~. Let these two enjoy themselves.”

“But, my Lad-yieh~!?” The antagonistic maid’s protest is interrupted by an uncharacteristically adorable squeal.

Unable to keep her curiosity in check, Beryl quickly pulls back and spins her head around, the tip of her long Elvish ear nearly poking Krvavy in the eye. Any disappointment to be had over their kiss ending so soon is quickly driven aside by the scene in front of them.

The albino maid is bent partway over the back of Rina’s chair, her body tense with token resistance. Rina’s delicate fingers slide through her neat white hair, dislodging loose strands and making her frilly headband sit crooked on her head. What little can be seen of Vera’s face has grown a deep scarlet.

“Mmmh~...!” A moan, happy and content, rumbles from deep within the Countess’ chest as her lips leave those of her pale maid. “See, dear~? A little kiss over dinner is hardly something to get upset by~.”

It takes Vera a few seconds to shakily straighten back up, her gloved hands remaining on Rina’s shoulders. Smudges of black lipstick cover the pale pinkish-white of her lips. Her glasses sit askew on her nose, their crookedness almost certainly due to the rather detailed kiss mark high on her left cheek more than the fact that her head had been hanging halfway upside-down.

“I would just love to hear some anecdotes of your life together~.” Rina warmly addresses the Drakling and Wood Elf, playfully acting as if nothing had happened. “I would, of course, return the favour with some stories of my own~.”

“Tha’ sounds like a lovely idea~!” Beryl cheerily responds, so excited that she can’t help but squirm in her seat, wiggling and rubbing that perfect rear of hers into her larger lover’s lap.

In a rare moment of solidarity, both Krvavy and Vera find themselves wincing at what is to come.