Page 16 of Royal Captive
An undignified squawk left me as ice cold water hit me, and I scrambled to get to the back of the tub.
“—cold,” he finished, chuckling darkly.
I glared, but I’d been expecting as much already. Still, I watched with interest as he turned both handles on either side with one callused hand, and the other checked the temperature of the water.
Gawking was my thing today, I guess. Or maybe it was just him. I mean, he had to be checking the temperature, because what else would he be doing? And yet, that suggested there was hot water coming out of the tub! And as difficult as it was to wrap my brain around the thought of water magically appearing in this tub on its own, I drew the line at hot water.
The proof was in the water swirling around my ankles. It quickly turned from ice cold to tepid, to lukewarm, then to a scalding hot that wrapped me in its embrace. My body relaxed as the water rose, an audible groan of appreciation leaving my throat.
Shyllon shot me a look, and I blushed.
Once the tub was full, he disappeared out through a small archway. I took advantage of his absence and grabbed the soap, which smelled of lavender and some other tingly scent I couldn’t place. I roughly washed myself, ducking my head under the water and scrubbing frantically.
I took a moment to just float under the water; the warmth wrapping around me like a warm blanket as I held my breath and submerged myself fully. It was quiet here. And safe. What would it be like to just … stay here? Not that I’d ever entertain thoughts of ending my life, but it was intriguing to imagine endless peace. It would be simple. It would be—
Air bubbles streamed from my nose and lips as hands grabbed me and pulled. The grip was hard and painful, but I couldn’t scream with water in my mouth. Gasping as I broke the surface, the first thing I saw were those furious, indigo silver eyes.
He held me up by my arm and neck, spouting off a stream of unintelligible fae. I tried to focus on what he was saying, but a warm, heady sensation was spreading through my body at the pressure he had on my neck. My eyes closed as I shut him out. I felt safe. I felt … controlled.
He growled, and my eyes snapped open.
“I said, what are you doing?”
My brows furrowed. Why was he so angry at me?
“Uh … bathing?” I pointed warily to the lingering soap suds in my hair, and he jerked back as if I’d insulted him. His expression changed so rapidly I almost missed that strange flash in his eyes. Was he … embarrassed?
“Apologies. I … that is …” He lowered me back into the bath. “Many humans cannot swim,” he offered lamely, but I nodded anyway. It was true. Many couldn’t. The only reason I knew how was because of the little pond out in back of the manor.
We were so close, so very close, and I still was naked, so very naked. My face heated and Shyllon let go of me and turned, picking up a large wooden chair that was lying haphazardly on the floor, next to a pile of clothes and a bright purple, fluffy towel.
Oh. That’s what he must have left to get.
To my growing horror, he picked it up, spun it around neatly, and sat down right across from me. He leaned back in the chair, arching one eyebrow at me as he rested his hands on his thick, muscled thighs.
If he patted his lap, I might die.
Wait, where did that thought come from?
I bent over and dunked my head that way, determined to finish while baring the least amount of flesh possible.
“Horse girl, I have seen it all. Stop cringing and finish cleaning. Time is limited.”
Ha, yeah. Easy for him to say. I couldn’t tell if my body was so heated from embarrassment or the water. Either way, I finished in record time, hanging the soap back on the little knob by its rope and boldly staring at him.
“Good. Stand.”
It took every ounce of self-control to keep my arms at my sides and not cover my breasts. All that bravado, and his eyes never left my face.
My hands reached out for the towel, but he seized me with it instead, roughly rubbing it all over my body with a utilitarian efficiency that left me unable to protest. With a few quick pats and a twist, he had my hair tied up with the towel so that it wasn’t budging soon. I touched the design, wondering at how he knew how to do that. Then again, lots of male fae had long hair, didn’t they? Perhaps they simply knew how to care for it.
He offered me a basic linen dress next, white with a brown apron and a black cloak that was too short for me, ending at the bottom of my calves instead of my ankles. The brown leather boots were as well, but they were in much better shape than my old clothes. I shot them a sad parting look as I dressed.
Standing there, my outlook on life suddenly felt much more positive. Amazing what cleanliness could do. Now, if only I could get something to eat.
My stomach rumbled on cue, and Shyllon frowned. “Did you not eat at the welcome picnic?” He shook his head before I could answer. “Never mind. Let’s go.”
At least he let me walk as he guided me back down into the corridor, though I had to take quick steps to keep up with his long stride. His jaw clenched, and I wondered if I’d made him angry. It wasn’t my fault I hadn’t eaten; the fae guard had practically smacked the food out of my hand!
