Page 51 of The Princess and the Demon

I inhale deeply, closing my eyes and smiling.

It’s jasmine oil, and my favorite scent.

Amon must have figured it out. When he brought me here.

To stay… as his prisoner.

I dash the thought away, refusing to let my circumstances sour my mood. Tonight, I would enjoy his company, and I hoped to get to know him more.

Quickly stripping out of my gown, I step into the water, groaning gratefully as the heat starts to seep into my muscles.

Once I’m fully submerged, I reach for the bottle, tipping it to pour a generous amount into the water.

The oil mingles with the steam, and I smile as the scent of jasmine permeates the room.

I lean back, submerging myself up to my chin.

Excitement courses through me, and my stomach summersaults.

Amon’s molten eyes enter my mind, and I close mine, envisioning him. His horns, the way his eyes darken when he looks at me…

I don’t even have to be near him, and my body responds in a way that makes my cheeks heat.

I chalk it up to the heat of the water.

Denial doesn’t suit you.

I scoff at my own inner monologue, dipping below the water completely.

When I resurface, the air shifts, and Balail walks in a moment later, setting a large towel on the wash basin.

“You found the oil.” She says simply, coming to stand at the side of the tub.

She gazes down at me, her eyes roving over my body. I cover my breasts with my arms uncomfortably, and she chuckles.

“Relax, you don’t have anything I haven’t seen a thousand times over.”

I smile awkwardly, but frown. I don’t know what she’s supposed to mean by that.

“Would you like me to wash your hair, princess?” She holds out her hands, flexing her claw-tipped fingers.

“No, that’s ok, really.”

I smile up at Balail, but she kneels behind me anyways, dipping her hands into the water. “I insist.”

The words come out slightly snappy, and I still before she places a hand on my forehead, leaning my head backwards.

She scoops my hair up onto the top of my head, and reaches down to grab another bottle, pulling the stopper to pour the soap directly onto my hair.

The demoness starts to lightly scrape her claws over my scalp, and I groan, closing my eyes and slumping against the tub.

She laughs, scrubbing the soap into my tendrils. Several minutes of silence pass, and after she rinses the soap from my hair, she stands to dry her hands on the towel at the wash basin.

“I see Amon has taken a liking to you.”

The statement catches me off guard, and I frown, turning in the water to face Balail, making water slosh over the side of the tub.

“I’m…not sure what you’re talking about.”

---