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The Goddess evens up.
She said that she would tell him their location soon, and what documents to get in order, other things like that. Then she hung up.
"Well, Lara, I think you've made the right decision. Your uncle should be here within a few days, and until then, I see no reason you can't have television privileges! Something to pass the time. Nurse, add the smart screen to her room."
Although Nurse Cerys still brought Lara to that pink hellscape, the girl was in brighter spirits than she had been in a long time.
It didn't last long.
The smart screen she had been so excited about turned out to be a large flat screen that was set just outside of her reach. She was not given any remote control for it, so had no way of changing the channel or even turning the volume on. Its content was questionable, at best. Mostly foreign soap operas that Lara had never seen or heard of before, and loosely connected by a similar theme. The theme was servant girls and their wealthy employers.
One of them was a Hindi serial that followed an unbelievably rich princess through the drama of her life. For some reason, there was a huge emphasis on her feet - the director usually showed what footwear she had on, and many of the scenes took place with her soles facing the camera. There was a recurring character - a pretty girl dressed in a comparatively drab outfit who was usually pictured kneeling at her feet, fussing about them one way or another.
Their relationship was distinctly unequal - during one heated exchange the princess even slapped the girl using her foot! Lara watched bored and a little weirded out - she always thought feet were dirty and unpleasant things, even ones as clean and well-cared for as the princess's. They were almost a phobia for her.
Lara wanted to look away, but there was something hypnotic about the vibrant colors and the human figures on the screen. What else did she have to look at, anyway? She would enjoy anything compared to the muted pink of her room - the screen eased her confinement even if it was just to a certain degree. With nothing else nearby to hold her attention, she got lost in these idiotic serials, often stroking her tattoos absentmindedly as gorgeous women pranced about in smart outfits to the envy of all.
The programming seemed to change all the time, but it slanted towards a puzzling end.
When Lara first started watching, it seemed to be curated for more narrative-based stories where feet played a relatively minor role. But as she got more invested (and more absorbed in the pleasure that her tattoos provided), the programing would increasing amounts of emphasis on feet and servitude. One time, she realized she had been watching with rapt attention for an entire half hour as a pretty Japanese businesswoman got a foot massage from her eager female assistant while taking a phone call. As soon as Lara jerked to attention, the programming smoothly transitioned to the other women on the conference call - each one receiving highly personal services from similarly-dressed interns.
Then the call wrapped up, and the next scene showed a girl eating a lavish feast served to her by a scullery maid. Was this what the Japanese businesswomen were talking about - they were media executives or something?
Lara's mouth watered as she beheld the roast beef, the duck soup, and the macarons in a breathtaking array of color. It stayed on this for quite some time but then, the scullery maid crawled beneath the table to take care of her mistress's feet. The show cut between the rich girl enjoying her delicious meal as her servant knelt before her stocking-clad soles, rubbing them dutifully. At one point, the rich girl took a bite of the macaron and declared that her maid must try it, and held it beneath the table for the girl to eat from her hand, like a dog! Why couldn't it just stay on the food?
Like it or not, the TV did help the time pass more quickly.
She was still visited at least twice daily by Nurse Cerys, and fed the disgusting pink mush, and used the plastic bedpan as she had been doi