Return to the Vitrum was unsurprisingly dull and tedious. Neither because of a lackluster scenery with dunes wherever your eyes could see, nor due to the absence of wildlife, which in all Lethes’ honesty was to be expected. The worst part of this whole journey became the weather and its constant mood change from bloody hot to fucking freezing. And all that centipede blood melted during the day mixing with her sweat and getting absorbed by her clothes only to resurface at night keeping her cold even with a bunch of blankets. Not to mention the oily sour stench of decay.

Glass Wastes never was a nice place for travelers, yet entire nomadic clans transpire this land sustaining its flimsy economy with trade and marriage, so Lethe thought she could do the same. Well, no, not fucking travelling. Not if she will have to fight all the fauna of the Wastes and then keep its gore all over herself until the next oasis. She was good at trade, if being good meant selling your skills as a merc for hire. Two years in this business taught her a few valuable lessons for life, like, for instance, staying fucking away from group missions, if its not guild sanctioned. Being a Tracker involved certain health and wealth risks, mainly from other greedy bastards in your team rather than from a random monster. Ofcourse, there is a second side to the issue, it's generally safer to travel in groups- more chances that your slack will be covered by someone else and a fateful deathbed to remain but a step away.

Climbing up yet another dune, at last she saw familiar sandstone walls covered in a shade of whiteleaf tree canopies surrounding the Vitrum oasis. It was early morning, still chilling outside but bearable for her to keep going if such an effort will shorten the travel time. Guards were yawning in their watchtowers half asleep due to the lack of morning visitors.

A pleasant moan escaped her lips as Lethe got closer to the city gates, daydreaming about a bathtub of steaming water to wash away her worries together with gore. However, it also jumpscared the guard who clutched his spear with one hand while adjusting the helmet with the other.

— Oi! Who goes there?! — screamed from the watchtower, waking up all the garnison on his side of the battlement.

— Weary traveler returns home, Basir! — Lethe grinned.

— Feritas balls, Lethe! It’s sergeant Basir while I’m on duty! — he yelled, scratching the back of his head. — An’ I beg of ya lass, do not moan in front of the bloody city walls! Y’re already too popular with the Vitrum guards than ya should be. — He added two tones lower. — Now go on in, chop-chop!

Basir chuckled trying to ignore the tinkle of a fading laughter on his ears. The girl never fails to amaze him, but moaning near the gates? Hells dung, I swear this girl hangs around Nymph’s Pearl too much. To think she was an innocent sweetheart a couple of years ago, Kathleen’s girls are gonna spoil the lass out of her mind, if he wouldn’t speak up soon. Scratching his unruly beard, Basir heard footsteps up his watchtower.

— He-ey Srg, who was that? The sun isn’t even up… — a yawning head of a blonde girl popped up from the stairs.

Her conical bronze helmet was off to the side with hair too long and unmade to fit in the regulations. At least she is up and not slacking off in the barracks like some new recruits love to do.

— Recruit Teop- Teophy- Te- — Basir started off strong, preparing to scold the young girl but his determination crumbled as quickly as it appeared.

— Felicite Teophylact, Srg! — she corrected, smiling.

— Oi, who am I kidding? Excuse tis’ ol’ man miss, y’re name is a bit too much fo’ me. — he shrugged, then grimaced. — But that doesn’t mean y’re allowed to have tis’ bush on yar head while on duty! Go clean yarself an’ rally yar squad in front of the barracks. Guess I can give y’all some good ol’ mornin’ trainin’. Ah, an’ to answer y’re question - that was Tracker Lethe, most of the guard knows her, y’too will ‘ave time to strike a conversation with her this evening.

He glanced at his new recruit's cyan eyes shimmering with curiosity and smirked inwardly. Well, he didn’t lie, she could meet Lethe in person, but only if she would be able to stand after a hundred sparring sessions against other recruits.

In the meantime Lethe skipped through the slams, beelining between swampy mud puddles and roughly made clay huts on stilts. Even though it was called slams, people who lived here were not a dirty bunch of criminals or poor disabled. Houses were cheap, a bit crampy positioned not to mention mud all over the place, however, due to this very mud, there were dozens of blooming plants on almost every roof and wall throughout the district. Lethe couldn’t see anyone on the streets this early in the morning, but remembering entire families in loose white tunics tending to their little hanging gardens put a genuine smile on her face. Especially so, after inhaling zesty and clean herbal scent of desert verbena, that washed away the constant stench of rot from her.

Adding some spring to her step she passed the whitestone arc to the next district, arriving in the barracks grounds combined with officers residences and hurried over to the moderate two story mansion made from the same whitestone and decorated with stained glass over the windows. As soon as she stepped in the courtyard, Lethe breathed out all the accumulated tension over the past few days and welcomed herself home. It was good that she returned so early, none of her parents were present and the guards outside the mansion overslept their duty, so no one noticed her stinking self sneaking in the house. She was pretty sure she would die of embarrassment if someone came in close enough to feel that awful smell.

— First and foremost, to the bath we go!

Lethe took off her harness and armor, leaving them in a small armory together with the spear near the entrance and headed straight to their family’s private bath chamber. Alas, right when she left the small room her heart skipped a bit after the sudden appearance of a butler inches away from her face with two maids by his side. They bowed ever so slightly to their jumping-away-young-lady.

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— Holy Spring Lady's tits, Ulrich! Don’t scare me like that! — Lethe pouted, looking sideways at her butler.

— Apologies, young lady, I will try my best not to do so again. — Ulrich bowed, just a touch lower than before, — I also must remind you, miss, that Master and Lady of this household would be at most displeased with your swearing. With that said, my advice would be for you to attend to the needs of your body and allow Mira to be of help. — his voice was as aloof and cold as he often carried himself in front of the guests.

Lethe restrained her feachers from folding right into a grimace. Always polite this butler of hers, yet so stiff and glaring as if she is a stain on his perfect white shirt. His face is lean and hard with grim expression ever present. Or mayhaps, his long fiery red hair and beard gave off such a feeling? Appeared one day out of nowhere replacing her previous butler, just in time for dad to rearrange most of the staff leaving her in care of just two maids plus the scary butler. His distaste for her masterfully concealed behind a typical bodyguard poker face or suppressed under the fathers work ethic. Eitherway, the feeling was mutual. He even offers Mira as an assistant, as if Lethe didn’t know all things said around that bitch-of-a-maid go straight to her mother. And she’s no fun to boot! Young Lady of the house waited in staring contest against Ulrich before he grew tired of her stinking self and finally left the house to attend to some other business.

— Whatever. Sabrine, come along before this place turns into a dump. — ignoring Ulrichs proposition completely, she waved her hand for an older maid, who silently followed, close on her heels.

A sudden thought flashed through her mind halfway to the bath chamber and Lethe turned quick one-eighty, skulking back to the armory after ordering Sabrine to prepare for her in the bath. She grabbed the bottle of centipede poison from her pouch lying on the workbench, inspected it in deam light and only after a few seconds noded, satisfied. Taking it to the bath will be better than leaving it here, she thought, falling back to her previous destination.

The bath chamber wasn’t as grand as its name suggested, mainly because of her fathers dislike of any grandiose and pompous structures. Nevertheless, it was majestic in its own right. Clean marble columns surrounded the rectangular main pool made from intricate ceramic tiles that formed an unknown flowery pattern. Father called this… piece of art «Depth» smiling nostalgically every time Lethe asked him about it. Whatever that meant he never answered. But the main pool was not important right now, it would be a waste of time and effort to fill it with water just for her. In truth it was rarely seen in use. She directed her attention to a smaller one off to the far wall of the chamber where Sabrine was awaiting her, wrapped in a towel. It was simpler, a bath more than a pool, with basic white tiles but, as of now, filled to the brim with steaming hot water and aromatic oils.

Humming in anticipation Lethe began stripping off her clothes while still moving towards Sabrine. Dirty padded jacket was the first to go, stiffly dropping to the floor and barely folding. Left in her sleeveless top Lethe already unbuckled the trousers, promptly stopping to throw them aside. While Sabrine outright stared at her young mistress admiring smooth and flawless tan skin, her long slim legs and a slight sway of her hips. The damnable bluish top dangled teasingly giving a faint glimpse of her curvaceous waist before her mistress grinned and threw it away as well. Every time she was blessed with this sight her heart raced wildly, lust clouding her eyes. Lethe was magnificent, irresistibly so, alas not perfect with a modest yet taut breast. Sabrine quickly dismissed the disappointment, feeling a soft breath on her neck with her Lethe just inches away.

— Would you do the honors? — her whisper, caressing Sabrines ears.

Prompting at the sole piece of white garments left on her body, she moves her hips closer to the maid. Sabrine was no young maiden, and swiftly caught on the act. She kneeled slowly, her hands brushing over Lethe thighs and gliding unhurriedly closer and closer to the vicious white cloth that hid her mistress's pearl from prying eyes. Cherishing this moment of burning passion she moves her head closer almost kissing it before jerking back from the foul stench of the garment. Truly hideous thing.

— Let me wash you first, young miss. — she said meekly, helping Lethe out of her panties.

All the good mood Lethe mustered had been squished instantaneously by the reminder in what state her body was right now.

— No worries, Rin, I would be delighted to finally be clean. — she smirked at the kneeling maid, playing with a loose curl of Sabrines hair.

Her maid was a beautiful woman in the peak of her bloom. Bright amber eyes in contrast to dark brown hair tied in a bun by a black band. A sign of sorrow that was a target of many questions for her Rin. However, the widow prefers not to talk about her deceased husband and Lethe won’t pry in this matter uninvited.

She stepped in a hot steaming water, relief and pleasant shiver cascading down her shoulders. It was a small bath but spacious enough for her to lie in, the water barely covering her breast. While lost in her thoughts, she felt a touch of familiar hands washing her hair and hummed leisurely, enjoying her maids care.

Bathing with her was always a pleasant thing. Not only because she could explore Sabrines body without any restraint but also because her maid was an incredibly skilled bath chamber attendant. Soon the soft rubbing on her head stopped and a stream of hot water washed away all the soup and blood that was left in her hair. Smiling blissfully, Lethe rose from the water at the sound of a dropped towel while Sabrine wordlessly snuggled behind her. Hands full of aromatic oil grasped Lethes' meager breast producing a low delighted moan from their mistress. Teasing her uptight nipples Sabrine leaned in passionately kissing her neck. Her lover's fingers danced across her skin and tight muscles covering it all with a thick layer of bramble oil, a bright yet rich and complex roseberry-rose fragrance. Unable to resist the urge anymore, Lethe rubbed her tender lower lips, still moaning softly.

— T-this maid begs young mistress forgiveness for the intrusion, Lady Qistina demands your presence. — a meek voice, full of embarrassment declared from the entrance, — She awaits in the garden.

Mira didn’t dare to even glance at the scene before her blushing and staring at the floor. It was her first time seeing a young mistress nude and doing… things with big sister Rin. Her sudden appearance caught them off guard, young mistress clearly displeased with the interruption. Mira cringed inwardly blaming her rotten luck for having to fetch this lecherous young miss of hers for the Lady. Why would Ulrich even suggest Mira to accompany her at the bath chamber? It was humiliating indeed!

— Well, I suppose we will be left unsatisfied for today. It’s unwise to keep mom waiting. — Lethe annoyed muttering heard cleanly by her.

She kissed big sister Rin and strode out of the small pool straight to the entrance, towel in hand. Mira shuddered at the sight, averting her gaze back to the floor, cheeks burning red. Why did she feel a tingling between her legs?!