Page 22 of A Heart Disguised 1

“We don’t have time,” she insisted. “Dinner is soon, and we mustn’t keep the duke waiting.”

The reminder jolted me—a mixture of annoyance and fear—and I reluctantly paddled back to where she stood. As Meredith worked a fragrant soap through my hair, its rich lather smelling of jasmine and citrus, I couldn’t help but let my mind wander back to the duke. The memory of his golden eyes made my breath catch.

Meredith’s skilled hands worked through my hair, massaging my scalp with practiced efficiency. The sweet scent filled my nostrils as she rinsed away the last of the soap. Her fingers, wrinkled from the water, grazed my shoulders as she gave them a final scrub.

“There now,” she murmured, reaching for a towel. “You’re as clean as a whistle.” She patted my shoulder, her touch gentle but firm. “I’ll give you a moment to yourself.”

Her eyes darted to the door, a hint of urgency in her gaze. “I’ll be just outside, preparing your attire for the evening.” The unspoken weight of the impending dinner with the duke hung in the air between us.

Meredith’s footsteps receded, but the expected click of the door closing never came. Instead, I heard the soft whisper of fabric against wood as she left it slightly ajar. A sliver of cooler air from the bedchamber beyond crept in, a subtle reminder of the world waiting outside this steamy sanctuary.

Left alone with my thoughts and the lapping of the water against the tub’s edge, I couldn’t help but feel both relieved at the momentary solitude and anxious about what was to come. The weight of expectation seemed to press down on me, even in this tranquil space.

As I floated there, my gaze drifted to my sodden undergarments clinging uncomfortably to my skin. A sudden urge for complete freedom washed over me. With a furtive glance at the slightly open door, I made a decision. Surely, I reasoned, Meredith wouldn’t return without warning. Myfingers found the hem of my wet garments, and in one swift motion, I peeled them off. The freedom of being completely unencumbered by fabric in such luxurious surroundings was exhilarating, almost scandalous.

Then I noticed a flutter of movement. Starling had flown in through the gap in the door. The iridescent bird perched on the edge of the tub, tilting her head as if curious about my state of undress.

Feeling suddenly playful and uninhibited, I spread out like a starfish in the water, enjoying the sensation of weightlessness. But the cool air from the slightly open door reminded me of the world beyond this watery haven. With a soft sigh, I swam to the edge of the pool and hoisted myself up to sit on its rim. The water lapped gently at my waist, barely covering my lower half.

I reached for a bar of fragrant soap, rolling it between my palms to work up a lather. “Did you see him, Starling?” I asked, my voice low and conspiratorial as I began to wash my arms. “The duke—how grand and intimidating he is? Those horns of his, so sharp and elegant… And his eyes? They’re like pools of molten gold, aren’t they?”

As I spoke, I continued to run my soapy hands over my body, the motions both practical and indulgent. “And have you seen his shoulders? They’re so broad and strong. His chest… it’s massive, isn’t it? Nothing like mine.” I glanced down at my own slender torso. The difference between us was as clear as night and day, and I couldn’t help but feel a mix of awe and inadequacy.

Almost unconsciously, my hands lingered on my chest, fingers tracing idle patterns across my skin. I explored the contours of my own body, wondering how the duke had achieved such an impressive physique. Did demons naturally grow to such imposing proportions, or did it require rigorous training? As my mind wandered, my fingertips brushed lightly over mynipples, sending an unexpected shiver through me. I imagined the duke’s powerful form, his broad chest and sculpted muscles, and felt a strange mix of admiration and something else I couldn’t quite name.

“I wonder what it would be like,” I mused aloud, my voice dropping to a whisper, “to have such broad shoulders and such… solidity. Do you think demons and humans are really so different, Starling? Could I ever hope to grow to be like him?”

My cheeks warmed as my thoughts drifted toward more intimate curiosities. “And his… manhood—they say it’s impressive, don’t they? I wonder if the rumors are true.” My gaze dropped lower, to where I’d become acutely aware of myself. “I suppose compared to mine, it must be… well, it’s like comparing a sapling to a mighty oak, isn’t it?”

I paused, brow furrowing in confusion. “But Starling, why does everyone seem so in awe and terrified of the duke’s… impressive manhood? Is it just because it’s larger? Does size truly matter that much?” I shook my head, feeling both curious and bewildered.

Just as I was about to delve deeper into these scandalous reflections, Meredith’s voice cut through my reverie. “Master Robin! Time to finish up, dear!”

Reality came crashing back, and I sighed deeply as I began to climb out of the tub. “Oh, Starling,” I said softly as I reached for a plush towel, “I wish we could delay this dinner somehow. I’m not ready to face him again.” I wrapped the towel around myself, feeling suddenly small and vulnerable. “Gods help me if I swoon again. What must he think of me already?”

Istood before the mirror, my reflection a stranger adorned in a gown that belonged to a life not mine. Lily’s old dress, a soft pink silk that shimmered in the light, clung to my slender form with an uncanny perfection. The fabric whispered secrets with every movement, accentuating the delicate lines of my body and lending a subtle, feminine grace to my naturally lithe figure. Over this, an elegant kaftan flowed, its high waist and bell-shaped sleeves embroidered with silver thread that caught the light and made it dance, further enhancing the ethereal quality of my appearance. The ensemble seemed to blur the lines between masculine and feminine, creating an enchanting ambiguity that even I found captivating.

The vibrant hues brought out the green in my eyes, giving them a depth I hadn’t known they possessed, and cast an ethereal glow over my pale skin. My hair had been brushed to a glossy sheen and cascaded down my back like a waterfall of moonlight. In that moment, I could almost believe I was a true noblewoman, the epitome of Aethorian grace and beauty.

Yet beneath this captivating facade, terror gripped me. The thought of dinner with Duke Darius loomed like an executioner’s blade, poised to fall.

What if he saw through my disguise? What if his legendary temper was unleashed upon me? I shuddered to think of the retribution that might befall my family. Visions of horror flashed through my mind: the duke devouring me whole, his demonic form twisted with rage; Rosalind and Lily screaming as they were dragged away to some unspeakable fate; our home engulfed in hellfire, my father’s lands laid to waste. Even Lady Aldercrest, Henry, and Gavin, for whom I held little affection, didn’t deserve such a gruesome end.

“You look divine, Master Robin.” Meredith’s voice broke through my dark musings.

Russet wagged his tail in agreement, while Starling chirped from her perch atop the wardrobe. Their silent support was a balm to my frayed nerves, but it did little to quell the storm of anxiety within me.

A young male servant arrived to guide us through the labyrinthine corridors of Argentum Keep. My heart pounded against the constricting corset with each step, the soft rustle of silk against marble floors sounding thunderous in my ears. Meredith trailed close behind, her presence a small comfort in this sea of uncertainty.

We stopped before an ornate door, its surface adorned with intricate carvings that seemed to writhe in the flickering torchlight. The servant gestured for me to enter, and Meredith squeezed my hand. “Good luck,” she whispered, her voice thick with concern.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the room. The sight that greeted me was nothing short of breathtaking. The private dining area was a masterpiece of luxury and refined taste. Plush velvet seating surrounded a low table of polished obsidian, laden with crystal goblets and silver platters that caught the light like captured stars. Candles flickered in ornate holders, casting a warm, intimate glow over the space.

The balcony doors were thrown open, revealing a sweeping view of Lunaria below. The city glittered like a blanket of jewels strewn across the landscape, each light a silent whisper of the countless lives unfolding beyond these gilded walls. The air was heavy with the scent of night-blooming jasmine and something deeper, more primal—a scent I couldn’t quite place but that made my pulse quicken.

There, silhouetted against the twilight sky, stood the Duke of Lunaria. His entire presence commanded attention, an awe-inspiring figure that seemed to dominate the space around him. For a moment, I forgot how to breathe, struck by the sheerpower and grace he exuded. As if sensing my presence, he turned, and our eyes met across the room. Golden irises locked on mine, and I felt pinned in place, a butterfly caught in amber.

Internally, I was screaming. My mind raced with increasingly absurd thoughts:Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods! Run, you fool! Leap off the balcony! Surely plummeting to my death would be less terrifying than this!My legs, however, seemed to have other ideas. They trembled like a newborn fawn’s, apparently having forgotten how to function properly.What if I faint again? At least unconsciousness would be a reprieve from this terror. No, wait! What if he carries me again? I’d rather melt into the floor right now!

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