"I'm not smelling your little feet." Adrian Desmond gently tapped his daughter's foot, trying to put socks on her, but Curly dodged away.
"Daddy, want to smell?" Curly lifted her foot, touching her father's nose. "Stinky or not?"
The Sixth Master, a man who held sway over both the underworld and legitimate circles in Amwaka, sniffed his daughter's little feet, frowned, and said, "Stinky!"
Curly burst out laughing, hugging her own little feet and cackling, "I didn't wash my feet last night before I went to sleep... HAHA..."
Adrian couldn't understand a child's mind. What was there to be so happy about? Still, seeing his daughter happy made him happy too.
He just wanted to spoil his daughter rotten. So what if she became a profligate? So what if she ended up committing murder and arson? As long as she was happy, that was all that mattered.
"You didn't wash your feet, and Mommy didn't smack your little bottom?"
