How did an ordinary dinner turn into this?
Feeling the smooth, warm silk sensation creeping up from her ankles toward her calves, two pairs, one on each side, it was like the slight chill of an unwrapped ice cream bar, yet simultaneously like white shackles confining her movements. Astrid pressed her knees together, her sleek, glossy black-stockinged legs parting slightly.
The tablet remained quiet. Amalia and Lyra each continued eating the delicious food on their plates. Yet beneath the table, unseen currents surged, transforming the scene into a literal "battle of wits and legs."
Astrid's peripheral gaze flickered toward Lyra's side. The pink-haired girl, who always upheld knightly decorum and never resorted to such underhanded little gestures, bit gently on her cherry-pink lip, her ears tinged faintly pink.
