A chill settled within her. A whispered thought drifted through her mind,you shouldn't be here.
Maris stepped lightly, the hem of her robe brushing the dark marble floors as she moved past Kael's massive bed, she wondered what it would be like to lay within it, wrapped in Kael's massive arms. The room smelled of him — iron, floral, but an added spice she could not place. It curled around her like a ghost.
His desk cluttered. Not carelessly — but deliberately disordered, like a man who wanted you to believe he had nothing to hide. She ran her fingers over a worn leather journal, its binding cracked, a ribbon tucked partway through.
She hesitated.
Don't open it.The voice in her mind warned.
She did.
But before she could read more than one line, a low splash echoed from beyond the stone arch to her left. Her breath caught. Slowly, she closed the journal and turned. Beyond the archway was a second chamber — a bathing room, she guessed. Shadows clung to its threshold like they were waiting for her to cross.
Maris stepped forward in silent, barely realizing what she was doing.
The door was cracked. Just a sliver. She pressed her hand to it and pushed it open —slowly.
The air changed. Warmer. Damp. Scented with the spice that lingered in his chambers. Another splash, closer this time.
She froze as she peered inside.
The room was cavernous, its vaulted ceiling glowing with enchantments that made it look like the night sky had been captured above.
In the center, half-shrouded in mist, a massive sunken stone tub carved from black and veined with silver. Steam rose in lazy curls from the water, thick with herbs and dark oils. And in it reclined like a god at rest was Kael.
His ink-dark hair slicked and dripping down his front. His muscles gleamed under the low light, he was fully nude, water licking just beneath his hips, his chest slick with steam and starlight.
Two female attendants utterly naked, pale, and lovely, lured within the waters, washing him in practiced rhythm. One scrubbed his arms with a brush, the other worked at the muscle of his inner thighs.
Kael’s eyes were closed, his head tilted back against the carved rim of the tub. But Maris knew he had sensed her the moment she entered. The shadows that had greeted her intrusion now rolled lazily through the room.
Her heart hammered in her throat.
Run,the sensiblepart of her whispered. But her legs did not move.
The air smelled of crushed evergreen spice. She could hear the slow drip of water falling from his jawline, the faint hum of magic warming the bath, the soft exhale of Kael’s breath as one of the women dragged the cloth up over his collarbone, slow and reverent, soap sliding down his abs.
Maris’s cheeks flamed. She wanted to look away. She wanted to look more.
Her stomach flipped violently as heat twisted low in her body.
He hadn’t moved. Not a twitch. But somehow, she felt his attention like a wire between them, stretched taut, humming.
He wants me to see.
The thought hit like lightning.
Maris turned sharply, slamming the door closed behind her, her heart thundering like hooves on stone.
Back in her new chamber, she pressed her hands to her face and cursed under her breath. She felt burned by the sight of him. By the fact that he didn’t stop her. By the possibility that he had wanted her to see such a private moment.
Chapter nineteen
Heat Beneath the Throne
-Maris-
Dinner was… exquisite.
