The tea was warm. William held it in his hands, not so much for the taste, but for the comfort of its heat. Across from him, Aurus watched him intently, as if measuring every blink. Then, William decided to speak.
"During the trance... I didn't see any colors or light, not even shadows. Everything was a thick fog that wrapped around me completely. There was no up or down, just that dense shroud, hiding everything. I thought I was blind, until slowly, part of the fog started to lift. And then... it appeared."
Aurus raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"A mask. Smooth, featureless, without cracks. White—pale like a corpse. Just two hollow sockets." William closed his eyes for a moment, recalling the scene. "Even without eyes, it looked at me—or at least, that's how it felt. And then... it turned."
"Turned?"
"Yes. The mask spun on itself, and a mouth appeared. Massive. Full of jagged teeth. It opened... and let out a sound that pierced my soul. I couldn't describe it, but it was something truly sinister. It felt like a real nightmare."
Aurus stayed silent, staring into his cup. His expression had changed; the casual calm he usually wore had vanished, replaced by a quiet tension.
"The fog usually appears in trances when the subject has an affinity with illusion magic... but that mask..." He shook his head. "I've never heard of such a thing. Perhaps it's just a manifestation of your subconscious. Nothing to worry about. This test was only meant to detect affinities, it won't leave any aftereffects."
William nodded, though he could tell Aurus didn't quite believe his own words.
After some light conversation, William remembered his outfit.
"Professor... do you know where my previous clothes ended up? I'd rather not ruin this borrowed set during training."
"Ah, right. Ask at the laundry. The maids should have them."
Following the directions, William found his way to the service wing. Opening the door to the laundry, he saw Rose directing the other girls with natural authority. He waited quietly until she finished. When she turned, her eyes lit up with that mischievous spark he remembered. Her smile, lopsided, was that of a cat who'd just spotted a defenseless mouse.
"How are you?" she asked softly.
"Better… thanks to you," he replied, stepping closer.
His words caught her off guard—she thought he had been unconscious during her little "visit."
Maybe someone told him… she thought, trying to explain how he found out.
"Then... maybe you need something else from this maid?" she whispered, stepping closer.
They stared at each other for a few seconds, saying nothing. The air between them was thick, electric.
William leaned in first. Rose met his lips with a soft kiss that quickly grew intense. Her hands clung to his neck, while his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close.
"My room's empty," she murmured against his mouth.
He didn't need another invitation.
---
The door closed behind them with a soft click. Rose's room smelled of fresh flowers and spices. The curtains were drawn, and the sunlight barely filtered in, painting soft shadows across the stone walls.
Rose pushed him against the wall and kissed him with a barely contained urgency. Her lips were warm, her tongue moved in a slow, teasing dance. William kissed her back hungrily, sliding his hands over her hips, feeling the shivers that ran through her body at his touch.
She pulled back slightly, panting.
"I want you to watch," she said, and began unbuttoning her dress—one button at a time, slowly—letting each inch of her skin reveal itself deliberately.
Her body was toned, naturally curved from her constant work. Her chest was full and firm, her nipples already hard with anticipation. Her hips were soft, round, with neatly trimmed hair shaped into a fine triangle, framing a vulva that looked sculpted by hand.
William couldn't take his eyes off the living artwork before him.
"You're beautiful," he murmured.
Rose smiled and slid toward him. She unbuttoned his shirt with nimble fingers, tracing his abs with her fingertips, outlining each muscle.
"And you... were made for sin."
She knelt before him, pulling his pants down with agonizing slowness. His cock sprang free—thick, veined, and throbbing. Rose held it delicately, trailing her tongue over it before wrapping her lips around it.
William groaned deeply, leaning his head back against the wall.
She licked him slowly, savoring him, increasing the pace only when she sensed he was losing control. Then, just in time, she stopped. She looked up at him and licked her lips.
"Not yet."
She stood and led him to the bed. William laid her down carefully, slipped between her thighs, and spread them open with firm hands. She was already soaked, her folds glistening with need, and when he touched her, she moaned softly.
"I want to feel you," she said, her voice husky.
He entered her slowly, savoring the heat that welcomed him. They moved together, unhurried, as if each thrust were part of an ancient rite—a communion of flesh and will.
She clung to him tightly, nails digging into his back, their breath mingling in broken moans. They shifted positions. Rose climbed on top, moving her hips in slow, deliberate circles, her hair cascading over her shoulders, her breasts bouncing with every motion.
"More..." she whispered. "Harder."
And he obeyed. They sat up, kissed with hunger, gave themselves to sweat, to tremors, to that fleeting moment where bodies stop being just bodies and merge into something beyond.
When climax overtook them, it was a brutal wave that froze time. A release so intense that a warm stream erupted, soaking William completely.
Looking down in shame, Rose didn't know what to say. So she simply rested her head on his chest, drawing slow circles with her fingers.
"I didn't know you had experience, you naughty brat."
William smiled, caressing her back.
"Neither did I. But with you… it's different."
She looked into his eyes, unable to stop the question that came, soft and pleading.
"Will you come see me again?"