Before she can argue we’re interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps.
Ruby gasps, then gestures with her head towards the window. “It’s my maids. Leave!”
This time, I really should listen. My heart pounds as the footsteps draw closer.
A good man would leave. A good man would bid his fair maiden goodbye with a kiss on her cheek and disappear out the window. But unfortunately for Princess Amaryllis, I am not a good man.
So, with a smile and a wink, I keep my grip on her chin just long enough to press my lips to her cheek before darting away from the bath.
The door swings open.
By the time the two maids reach her, I’ve slipped into the dark space between her chaise longue and a bookshelf. With it being close to midnight, the room is lit only by a crackling fire and a few candles around her bath. The dim lighting leaves more than enough dark places for me to hide, and also gives me a perfect view of Ruby as the maids surround her, placing their oils and creams on a nearby table.
“Are you alright, my lady?” one of them asks, glancing vaguely in my direction. It’s too dark for the maids to see me, but Ruby knows for certain I’m still here.
And if looks could kill, I’d be a dead man.
Cheeks burning, Ruby softens her glare to address the young maid. “Yes, I’m fine. Sorry.” She turns her gaze to the bubbles in front of her.
“No need to apologise, my lady,” the second maid insists. She’s older and more motherly looking than the first. “You’ve had a stressful day. Not many ladies would be strong enough to even stand after what you went through. Poor dear.”
Guilt twinges in my chest. Perhaps I shouldn’t be toying with her right now. After all, itismy fault that the prince is now dead and the ball ended early. Maybe I really should be leaving.
Then again, I did save her life – andthe future of her poor youngest sister. So perhaps she ought to be more grateful.
There’s a clang as a bucket is set down on the floor, and the second maid moves towards Ruby. “Let’s get you rinsed now, and then into some night clothes,” she says, reaching for the princess’s arm.
Ruby thanks her, and I watch in silence while the maids work to rinse out the bubbles from her hair. It takes a while, my spot growing more uncomfortable each minute I’m stuck here, but still, I can’t look away.
She’s mesmerising, every inch of her, from her long scarlet hair to her lightly tanned shoulders that glisten with the water’s shine.
Soon enough, the first servant swoops in with a cream towel, and my view of the bath is blocked. Holding it up high to protect Ruby’s modesty, the maid averts her gaze as the princess rises from the bathwater.
Like her, I can’t see anything beyond the thick cream towel, but it doesn’t matter. Just the thought of my Ruby standing bare behind it sends a tightening sensation shooting beneath my belt.
“Martha?” the princess chimes. “I’m afraid I left my hair oil in Camellia’s room. Would you be a dear and fetch it for me?”
“Of course, my lady.” Placing down a crystal lotion bottle, the older maid dips her head and hurries out of the room, leaving Amaryllis alone with the younger servant.
A few moments pass before I hear Ruby’s voice again. This time she’s much quieter, speaking barely above a whisper as she addresses the young maid.
“...Please…you… fetch me…”
Heart pounding, I lean forward.
Perhaps she really is going to call for the guards. Or maybe she’ll send her maid to do it for her. It doesn’t make a difference to me. Either way, I’ll be long gone before they get here.
I’m heartbeats away from darting towards the open window when the maid’s reply steals my attention.
“Forgive me, my lady. I did not realise this towel wasn’t to your liking. I’ll fetch you another.” With that, the young servant dips her head and scurries over to the armoire, whisking away the cream towel with her.
My jaw clenches. Princess Amaryllis stands beside her bath, her tanned skin completely bare – from her narrow shoulders to her slender feet, still glistening with water.
Barely able to breathe, my eyes rake over her.
Such fragile, perfect skin. I can’t help but feast in all the details, like the small freckle above her belly button, and how her nipples match the rosy hue of her lips. With the candlelight flickering over her soft curves, she may as well be a goddess.
Just as I’d fantasised, her breasts are the perfect size. So perfect that if I weren’t already on my knees, I’d feel the urge to drop to them.
