“That makes two of us,” he said softly. “Now enjoy your bath, and when you're ready, come have something to eat. We have a big day today.”
She nodded and watched as he stood, his movements graceful. He gripped the bottom of his shirt and pulled it off in one smooth motion, revealing skin that caught the dim light like polished stone. Each ripple of muscle looked as though it had been carved with precision.
He tossed the shirt into the corner of the room, the soft rustle of fabric breaking the quiet.
“I left the robe for you here,” he said, gesturing to a neatly folded bundle of fabric on the counter. “And there are more boxes—but do not open the one with the black bow. That’s for tonight.”
Tonight was the masquerade.
Tavia leaned forward, resting her arms on the rim of the tub, her gaze following him as he moved. She imagined he’d been like this even before turning immortal. Despite herself, she didn’t mind watching him.
His lips curved into a teasing grin, his fangs barely visible.
“Is my pretty dove admiring the view?” he asked, his voice a low purr.
“Maybe,” she replied, her cheeks warming despite the cool bathwater.
“You know,” he said, his hands moving to the top button of his pants, “there’s more of me to see.”
Tavia sat up straight in the tub, shaking her head quickly, her damp hair clinging to her skin.
He laughed, the sound rich and deep, reverberating through the small washroom. Without another word, he turned and exited, closing the door softly behind him.
Tavia exhaled, sinking back into the bath.
The lavender water wrapped around her like a protective cocoon, its scent chasing away the lasttraces of the nightmare.
Was this how all males acted? Somehow, she doubted it.
From the ones she had encountered during her thieving days, most had been either brash or dull. Some were gentlemanly, but Lucius had an air of regality around him, a caring nature that felt rare. There was no bitterness in him despite all he had endured.
Captured for decades, locked away in darkness, yet he seemed content just to be free and alive again.
Maybe he’s completely insane, Tavia thought. That seemed like the more logical explanation.
Years in confinement could’ve driven him mad, and he might be pretending that nothing had happened to him.
But she didn’t know the whole story of his captivity. Had he been tortured? Starved? Or simply locked away and forgotten?
Why hadn’t they killed him?
She suspected there was more to his imprisonment than he let on. Still, he hadn’t pried into her past—into the years she’d spent surviving on the streets asa thief. So she extended the same courtesy, refusing to push him for answers, especially if the memories were ones he sought to avoid.
The water cooled as Tavia lingered, her thoughts churning.
Finally, she stood, droplets sliding down her skin as she stepped out of the tub. The nightdress clung to her like a second skin, heavy and soaked, but she stripped it off, letting it drop to the floor with a wet slap.
She wrapped herself in Lucius’s robe, the fabric soft and oversized, its faint cedar scent comforting. It was quickly becoming one of her favorite things.
She padded out of the washroom, her bare feet brushing against the cool wooden floor.
Lucius’s humming drifted through the house, a low and melodic tune that added a strange warmth to the quiet. The scent of fresh-baked bread filled the air, rich and inviting, mingling with the faint traces of lavender still clinging to her.
In the bedroom, her eyes fell on the stack of boxes, one of which was tied with a big black bow. She stared at it, curiosity sparking.
What could he have bought her?
She knew Lucius had rich taste, and she wouldn’t be surprised if the contents of the box were grand enough to rival the masquerade itself. Still, she wasn’t entirely sure about his plan for tonight.
