Page 24 of The Maleficent Faerie
He isn’t going to force me to bathe naked in front of them all.
Gratitude and relief rush through my heart, and I have to bite my lips to keep from thanking him.
He terrified me with the idea, then removed the danger. I’m certain it wasn’t done out of kindness. Is he trying to make me feel beholden to him? Trying to soften me up so he can steal my secrets? He said he wants to make me writhe—he wants to torment me, punish me.
If my mothers were here, Sayrin would warn me not to trust any gift from an enemy’s hand. Genla would advise me to find some way to slay my captors. And Elsamel would tell me to look for potential allies, for people with soft hearts who might be willing to help me.
Difficult tasks to reconcile, since the only one in this group who has shown me any softness is the enemy I need to kill—the Void King himself.
Our horses are taken away to the stables, and our group moves toward the nearest bath-house. Inside the stone building, steam hangs in the air, warm and thick, cloying my lungs and filming my skin. Stone benches surround a large, square pool whose steaming waters glimmer in the light of candelabra affixed to the walls.
The knights begin to strip at once, removing armor and boots. A robed woman directs me around the communal bath to a curtained doorway in the far corner of the room. I’m not sure if she’s a priestess or simply a servant at the Chapel, but I nod my thanks as she motions for me to proceed through the doorway.
“One moment.” The King’s rich voice arrests me, and I turn, trying not to think about the way my stomach dropped when he spoke to me.
Tentatively he reaches for my manacles, a humorous caution on his face. “Easy, viper. I only want to remove these so you can bathe.”
I hold out my hands to him. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll try to escape?”
“The private bathing rooms are completely enclosed. Stone walls on all sides, no way out.” He slips a tiny key from the pocket of his pants and inserts it into the lock on one of the manacles. With a click, it opens.
Judging by the splashes and shouts, I’ll wager at least two of the knights are already naked in the pool. Thankfully, the Void King’s great black wings block my view.
I’ve always wondered how Fae with feathered wings cope with water, but I’ve never questioned any of them. “How do you bathe with those?” I say impulsively, nodding to the wings.
The King finishes unlocking my second manacle and removes it, his fingers grazing my wrist. “The feathers shed water, mostly. They are cumbersome, to be sure. I don’t go swimming often. But like everyone else, I enjoy indulging in a hot bath.”
An image of him blazes in my mind—his lean, muscled body, gleaming wet and naked in the golden haze of steam and candlelight. Soapsuds sparkling on his pectorals as he washes himself, framed by the arches of his black wings.
Horrified by how attractive that vision is, I retreat hastily through the curtained doorway the robed woman indicated.
The room beyond is small compared to the communal chamber, but the deep bath is large enough to comfortably fit four people, if they were seated. The hot water bubbles invitingly—probably set in motion with a spell—and every part of my weary body aches to be in it. I haven’t slept in far too long—I’ve been fighting, traveling, and worrying. I’m exhausted.
I tug off my boots and peel Dawn’s gown from my body, along with the panties I was wearing. On a stone seat near the bath lies a fluffy towel, a folded linen shift, a plain set of undershorts, and a pair of woven slippers. Not what I’m used to wearing, but at least they’re clean.
When I step into the bubbling bath, the heat stings at first, but I acclimate quickly. My wings yield to the water, going limp and lax. Filmy and lightweight, they’ve never deterred me from swimming. But they’re definitely not as powerful as the wings of the Maleficent One. The height he achieved, the flips and dives and maneuvers—I’ve never been able to do anything like that, even during the short periods when I was allowed to fly, under the close supervision of one of my mothers.
Near the pool lies a stone basin with bars of soap, sprigs of fresh herbs, and heaps of dried flowers. I take a few handfuls and toss them over the water before lathering myself with the soap.
After washing my body and my hair, I seat myself on a low bench under the water. I can’t relax fully, not with the male shouts and guffaws coming from the communal bath; but I can take a few moments to inhale the perfume of the dried flowers and let the firm pulse of the hot water beat away some of my tension. My head tips back against the edge of the bath, and I close my eyes.
I startle out of a drowse at the low hum of voices just beyond the curtain covering the doorway. There’s a swish of fabric, then a soft slap of large, wet feet.
I open my eyes in time to see a half-nude male figure darting back out through the curtained doorway of my bathing chamber.
If he was trying to catch a glimpse of me naked, he couldn’t have gotten a very good look through the bubbles and flower petals. Still, I’m too vulnerable here. I need to leave the bath and get dressed.
Climbing out of the bath, I twist my hair to squeeze out the excess water, and then I turn to the stone seat where the towel and clothes are waiting for me.
They’re gone.
So is Dawn’s gown, and so are the panties.
I’m alone and stark naked in a stone room—nothing with which to dry or cover myself.
One of the knights stole my towel and clothes so I would have to walk out naked before them all, despite the King’s mercy in giving me a private bath.
Or maybe the King put one of them up to this. Maybe this was his plan all along—to put me off my guard and then humiliate me. And I fell for it. I let myself believe he could be kind.
