Desire let me breathless, blood rushing south with such violence I feared I might stumble. I squeezed my eyes shut, but the image burned behind my lids like a brand.
"The water will remain hot if you care to bathe," he said softly, his voice carrying an odd note I couldn't interpret.
I couldn't possibly undress. Not with my body betraying me so completely, not with want written so plainly in my flesh. Instead, I kept my back turned until I heard him padding into the smaller sleeping chamber, bare feet whisper-soft on stone.
Only then did I dare to move, stripping with desperate haste and sliding into water, pretending my cock wasn’t painfully hard and my breath dangerously shallow. The heat made me gasp, sweat beading on my brow as I sank deeper. This same water had caressed his skin, had flowed over every inch of him that I would never be permitted to touch.
The thought was both torment and strange comfort.
I washed quickly, efficiently, trying not to think about his naked form so recently occupying this same space. When I emerged and dressed with shaking hands, my arousal had mercifully subsided to manageable levels.
A knock at the door froze me mid-step.
I opened it to find a young man in robes of sea-green silk, his features refined and intelligent. Behind him stood two others, similarly dressed, bearing between them a wooden chest inlaid with mother-of-pearl.
"Good evening," the first said with a bow both graceful and precise. "I am Priest Myris of Aerius’s temple. One of my acolytes had thehonor of meeting the Prince of the Three Isles today."
The naked youth from the grove. Of course he would have relayed the information to the temple hierarchy. I inclined my head carefully. "What brings you to our chambers at this hour, Priest?"
"To extend proper welcome, of course." His smile was warm but calculating. "News of your prince's arrival has reached the palace. We bring gifts as token of Eletheria's hospitality, and an invitation to accept finer accommodations within the sacred complex itself."
The two acolytes stepped forward, setting the chest between us with reverent care. Both were beautiful in that particular way the island seemed to breed, all golden skin and knowing eyes, moving with dancer's grace.
"You honor us," I said, though wariness prickled along my spine. "I will convey your generous offer to His Highness."
"Excellent." Myris bowed again. "We hope the prince will find our island... welcoming. So few visitors come from the outer reaches of the archipelago. Particularly from the Three Isles."
There was something in his tone, not quite fear, but careful respect tinged with uncertainty. As if he were handling a blade of unknown sharpness.
When they had gone, I stood staring at the chest, unease coiling in my belly like a serpent.The Three Isles were known throughout the archipelago, but not for anything good. Our reputation was built on conquest and cruelty, on my king's appetite for war and the spoils thereof.
Serin emerged from the sleeping chamber moments later, wrapped in a robe of simple linen that somehow made him look more royal than any cloth-of-gold. "Visitors?"
I relayed the priest's message quickly, watching emotions flicker across his face like candleflame, surprise, pleasure, and beneath it all, a shadow of something that might have been dread.
When he moved toward the chest, I stepped smoothly between him and it. "Allow me, Your Highness."
He paused, head tilted in question, but didn't argue. I was acutely aware that gifts from strangers could conceal any manner of unpleasant surprises. The Three Isles had enemies enough to make caution necessary.
The chest opened to reveal wonders that stole my breath.
Garments of silk so fine they seemed woven from sea-foam lay folded with loving care. Small lanterns held stones that glowed with soft lunar radiance instead of oil or flame. A bottle of wine bore a handwritten label proclaiming it a seventy-year vintage from the palace's own vineyards. Delicatejewelry of silver and pearl nestled among sachets of exotic spices.
Each item spoke of wealth beyond measure, but more than that, of genuine welcome.
"They fear me," Serin said quietly, and the pain in his voice made my chest ache.
"They honor you as you deserve to be honored," I countered, though I could see why he might think otherwise. The richness of the gifts suggested a desire to please someone dangerous rather than simply welcome a guest.
He shook his head sadly, but his fingers traced the edge of a blue garment with something approaching hunger. "Aseret," he murmured. "I've read about them but never seen one." After a moment's hesitation, he lifted the blue silk from its nest. "Help me with it."
The request hit me like cold water. Under normal circumstances, servants would assist with such tasks. But we were alone, and the intimacy of the moment stretched between us like a taut bowstring.
I could have retreated to my own chamber. Should have, for the sake of my sanity if nothing else. Instead, I stepped closer, hands steady despite the chaos in my chest.
"Of course."
He turned his back to me, and I reached for the ties of his simple robe with fingers that barelytrembled. The linen whispered to the floor, leaving him naked in the lamplight, and I bit back a sound that would have revealed far too much.
