The carriage resumed its gentle rhythm, a soft rock that lulled the world outside into a distant hum. Rose, still pale but now stirring, felt the lingering ache of the poison, a dull throb in her back. Yet, the overwhelming sensation was the warmth emanating from Lyra's lap, where she lay cradled, and Seraphina's arm, which was wrapped protectively around her. The potent aroma that had flared so intensely earlier had receded, pulling back into the warm depths of her skin. It was still there, a faint, lingering sweetness, but now it was theirs, more controlled, a secret for them to discover, a promise of shared intimacy. Lyra and Seraphina, however, remained captivated, their gazes fixed on her, a silent adoration that made her heart pound a joyous, anxious rhythm.
"Look at her, Lyra," Seraphina purred, her voice a low caress, eyes tracing the delicate curve of Rose's cheek. "So brave, our little bloom." Her voice was laced with a tenderness Rose had never heard. "And so foolishly selfless."
Lyra chuckled, a sound like wind chimes, though her eyes were still wet with unshed tears. "Indeed. Like a wild rose, putting herself in harm's way without a second thought." Her fingers, long and elegant, lightly brushed a stray curl from Rose's temple. "Though, I daresay, far more enchanting than any cultivated hothouse flower."
Rose, nestled between them on Lyra's lap, squirmed delightfully. "Oh, my ladies," she mumbled, her cheeks burning. "Please, I... I'm not that pretty. I'm just… plain. And a bit... much." She gestured vaguely at her gorda frame, a familiar wave of self-consciousness washing over her. "And... I just wanted to make sure you were safe."
Seraphina's crimson eyes narrowed, not in anger, but in a swift, possessive protectiveness that bordered on fierce. "Plain?" she scoffed, her tone playfully indignant. Her hand, strong and graceful, cupped Rose's jaw, tilting her face up. "Lyra, did you hear that? Our Rose thinks herself 'plain.' After what she did." Her voice dropped to a near whisper. "Unacceptable. You were so brave, Rose. You risked everything for us. We were so careless. We promise, we will never let harm come to you again. Never."
Lyra leaned in, her soft white hair brushing Rose's shoulder. "Quite. And 'a bit much'? Darling Rose, you are perfectly, wonderfully, deliciously 'much.' Just as you should be." And with that, Lyra pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Rose's lips, a gentle reassurance that chased away the shadows of insecurity, a silent apology for their past disdain. The taste of her was still sweet, even with the faint ghost of the poison.
As Lyra pulled back, Seraphina immediately claimed her turn, her lips finding Rose's in a deeper, more deliberate kiss. This was no longer about dominance between sisters, but a shared, unspoken agreement, a dance of affection born from fear and newfound admiration. Seraphina's kiss was firm, comforting, a silent refutation of Rose's self-doubt and a testament to their own awakened feelings. When she finally pulled away, her thumb brushed gently over Rose's lower lip, swollen and glistening. "Sweetest thing," she murmured, a rare tenderness in her voice. "Thank you, Rose. Thank you for your courage."
"Truly," Lyra agreed, her hand finding Rose's hip, giving a gentle, possessive squeeze. Rose gasped, a soft, thrilled sound, her fingers instinctively clutching at the luxurious fabric of Lyra's gown. Lyra leaned her head against Rose's, a contented sigh escaping her lips. "I feel… light, when I'm with you, Rose. Like the world outside this carriage simply ceases to matter. After what happened… after your bravery… we realize how precious you are."
Seraphina nodded, her arm wrapping loosely around Rose's waist, pulling her closer still. "It's true. All the tiresome politeness, the endless calculations… it all fades. You are a delightful distraction, Rose. Our sweet, foolish escape." There was no malice in the word "foolish," only a teasing affection that warmed Rose to her core. Her thoughts, usually so cold and rational, now swirled with Rose's image. Such pure thought, such selfless action. It was utterly captivating.
Rose, despite her lingering shyness, felt a surge of unadulterated joy. These women, these magnificent, unattainable mistresses she had secretly admired from afar, were holding her, kissing her, speaking to her with such gentle words. It felt like a dream, too fragile to fully believe. She timidly reached out, her hand resting over Seraphina's where it lay on her waist. "My ladies are too kind," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Nonsense," Lyra hummed, her fingers gently pinching the soft flesh of Rose's thigh through the fabric of her skirt, a playful, yet undeniably desiring gesture. "We are simply being honest. You have a way of… simplifying things, Rose. Making us feel. Truly feel. And after you saved us, how could we not?"
"Indeed," Seraphina added, her fingers lightly kneading the small of Rose's back. "And to think, we've walked past you countless times, blind to such… delightful sweetness. Your courage, your pure heart… it's something we've never encountered." She leaned in, nuzzling her face into Rose's hair, inhaling deeply. "And that scent. It's truly enchanting. You simply must let us enjoy it more often."
Rose blushed crimson, a soft smile finally gracing her lips. She could feel the heat emanating from both women, the subtle shifts in their bodies, the undeniable desire that pulsed between them. It was in their words, their touches, the way their eyes lingered on her. This wasn't just a whim; it was something profound, something that resonated deeply within her own yearning heart. And in the safety of their shared embrace, nestled between the formidable sisters, Rose, the timid maid with a heart of gold, began to understand that in their eyes, she wasn't plain or "too much." She was simply their Rose, cherished, adored, and forever protected.
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