Merek’s chin jerks, one of his brows raising inquiringly. “You’re going to bed her,” he states. It isn’t a question. I don’t dignify his words with a response.
“Fetch the witch,” I grind out.
I can feel all three men smiling as they look at me, but I ignore them all. Thankfully, they don’t stare long. Merek turns and walks back toward the staircase that leads to the dungeon.
Rowan and Henry take their stations next to the door, one on each side and their chins lifted as they watch the flurry of maids carrying linens and clothes in and out.
When the hustle and bustle is concluded, I knock on the closed door. A maid answers, her eyes wide as she looks at me, then quickly shifts her gaze to the floor.
“I’ll be in my chancery, find me when madam is finished with her bath,” I softly demand.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” she breathes.
Turning from the scene, I force my feet to carry me toward my chancery. My desire is to watch her bathe, to see if the promise of what lies beneath her strange garments is exactly how I imagine it would be.
I wonder if her body is warm, soft and inviting?
Sinking back in my leather chair, I pinch my eyes closed and I try not to imagine this strange woman with her long light-brown hair, riding me. She must be a siren, she must, otherwise I would not lust after her as if I was a boy who had only felt the touch of his hand and not a woman’s queynte.
By gods bones I hope that Aleida can break this spell.
SYBILLA
The door bursts open and I open my mouth to scream when I see that it’s three young teen boys carrying what looks like an old-fashioned metal tub. They set it down, wordlessly, then disappear before reappearing shortly after with buckets of water.
I watch as they fill the tub up with water, never once saying a word to me or one another. I take a step toward the large tub and pause when the door opens again and three women walk inside. They eye me warily, but none speak to me.
One is carrying what looks like white cloths folded and the other has a long dress made out of a deep burnished golden fabric with black lace trim along the bottom of the skirt and at the wrists of the long sleeves. It’s beautiful, but I don’t know why it’s being brought to me.
“Excuse me, what’s happening?” I ask.
Two of the three women keep their gazes focused on the stone floor, the third lifts hers up to meet mine.
“I am Jasmine and we are here to bathe you as per the orders of His Majesty,” she says, dipping her chin to the side.
I frown, unsure of what is happening. I’m completely confused by every single person here. “Please, help me. I think I’ve been kidnapped. My name is Sybilla Collins. I live in Portland, please help me,” I beg.
The woman takes a step back, a frown playing on her lips. “I know not of what you speak, milady. King Elias is a fair king. If he holds you under guard, he must have good reason. Please disrobe so that we may bathe you.”
Bathe me?
I balk at her words, all of them. She is just as brainwashed as everyone else in this creepy fucking building. There is no way I’m stripping naked in front of these people. She has clearly lost her ever-loving mind.
“I think I can bathe myself,” I snap.
Her chin jerks and she takes a step back. She shifts her gaze behind her at the other women and I ignore the shared looks that they give one another. I’m sure for whatever reason they wanted to help me, but I’m going to have to decline allowing them to get their rocks off by bathing me.
“As you wish, milady,” Jasmine whispers.
Pressing my lips together, I watch as all three of them back out of the room before closing the big wooden door behind them. Looking from the door to the tub, then back to the door, I wonder how much privacy I really have here.
I don’t know how to lock the thing, and supposedly there are guards posted outside. Chewing on my bottom lip, I release it with a shrug. Who knows when I’ll get another bath, especially if I try to make a run for it, I should take advantage of the clean water.
Stripping out of my pajamas, I leave them in a pile next to the basin tub. There are a couple bottles placed at the end of the oblong tub and I pick them up to inspect them.
Taking the corks out of the top, I smell them. They are strongly scented oils. I choose a eucalyptus scent and tip it so that a few drops fall into the water.
Picking up what looks to be a bar of soap, I lift one foot and dip my toe into the water. It isn’t hot, but it’s not cold either. Slowly, I sink down into the water and start to lather the soap in my hand. Lifting it to my nose, I inhale and am pleasantly surprised to smell the scent of vanilla.
I don’t take too long to wash myself, too afraid that someone is going to burst in and see me in all of my naked glory, plus the water is cooling at an alarming rate.
Once I’m washed, and seriously wishing that I could stay in here for a while longer, just to smell the delicious scents that swirl around me, I let out a heavy sigh before I stand. On my way up, I grab a white linen cloth that is pretty thick, so I assume it’s a drying towel of some kind.
Stepping out onto another thick white linen, the water soaks the fabric immediately at my feet and I hurry to dry off the rest of my body, wrapping it around my nakedness as quickly as possible.
“Milady,” a voice calls as the door opens just a crack.
I freeze, before slowly turning in a circle to face the doorway. Jasmine’s head peeks around the door’s edge and her eyes find mine.
“I don’t mean to disrupt, but you cannot dress yourself, milady. We have to help with your ribbons.”
Ribbons.
I can only think of one type of clothing that needs ribbons and that’s a corset. Blinking, I nod my head woodenly as the three women quickly hurry into the room. They go about their business, ignoring my existence. Until one of them brings a thin white fabric toward me.
“Your undergarment, milady,” she offers, her voice quiet and soft.
Taking the fabric in my hand, I pull it on over my head, allowing it to fall to the floor. Only when it’s covering me do I release the linen towel wrapped around my chest. I step away from the towel and bend down to pick it up, but Jasmine swoops down and snatches it before I get the chance.
The neck of the undergarment is cut extremely deep, I reach for the ties to close it, but Jasmine appears and bats my hands away. “Arms up, milady,” she gently orders.
Lifting my arms up straight, I hold my breath when the dark gold and black dress is lifted over my head by the other two ladies and slowly lowered. Slipping my arms into the long sleeves, I bite the corner of my lip as it drags over my body to touch the floor.
The inside is so soft, as if there is some kind of fur lining. I wish that I could look in a mirror, I’ve never worn a gown before and this seems like something that I need to see.
It still feels like a weird dream, but as something is strapped around my waist from the inside of the dress, my breath hitches and I know that it is still not a dream.
“What’s that?” I ask on a wheeze as it’s pulled tightly.
“It’s your inner stays, milady, your ribbons,” Jasmine announces, pulling it tighter. “It’s a bit small for your… erm… endowments,” she cautiously explains.
In other words, I’m a fat ass with big boobs. I also have a big booty, but I guess it doesn’t matter in this full-length skirt. Once they’ve pulled and groaned, I’ve gasped and moaned, they finally stop and I feel them tugging on the outer part of the dress.