Page 42 of Nocturn

Lord Draven watched me, water drenching the front of his tunic to his sleeves. He stood multiple paces away, well within view of my body.

“I have already seen all of you, mortal,” he murmured, tone dry.

Tell that to my thundering pulse!

But he was not wrong. Still, I could not, in good conscience, sprawl as if I were comfortable.

“I have almost finished bathing you.” All it took was one stride and he was beside the tub, crouched. “Be still.” His broad hand cupped my head, then I was submerged.

I clamped my lips together too late. Thrashing underwater, I struggled to breathe. He did something akin to rubbing against my head.

I screamed and water flooded my mouth. His grip loosened. I surged up, gasping and gagging as I scrubbed my palm over my face.

“Why would you do that?!” I wheezed.

“You still have lather in your hair.”

I reached up; my fingers grazed the slick texture on my head.

He had bathed me?

“You have a bit more here,” he said in an analytical tone, pointing at the crown of his head. He then reached forward, big, intimidating hand looming.

“I shall wash it!” I cupped my hands and dipped them into the water. Lowering my head, I lifted and allowed water to trickle through my fingers. I rubbed downward as I went until I no longer felt the slimy consistency that accompanied applying too much soap.

As odd as it was to wake in this manner, the warm water felt good lapping against my skin.

He stood in a smooth motion and reached for something behind me. A moment later, a towel hit me across the face.

“Now get dressed. We are going to translate until you start bleeding again,” he ordered, and left the bathing chamber as if I were chasing him. His strides were a little wider and faster.

He had satisfied his part of my request to see Piper. Now he was collecting.

I stood, water sluicing down my body, cool air raising goose flesh. I dried myself quickly, then scrunched the fabric into my hair until it no longer dripped.

The longer I stood with my legs in the warm water, the harder it became not to melt back into it. Once done with my hair, I tossed the cloth onto the ground so I could step onto it.

I struggled to hoist myself out of the tub, so I had to toss my leg over whilst gripping the lip. Doing this nude felt like an indignity. I landed on my feet, and they slid out from under me. If I had not been holding onto the edge of the tub, I would have broken my skull.

A sigh came, and a grip hoisted me upright.

“You damned mortal,” he huffed and slapped my dress against my chest. I hugged it to offer myself a semblance of privacy. “You are a menace to yourself.”

I looked up at him, eyes wide.

He shook his head and turned, leaving me alone again. I did not let myself dwell any longer and dragged the dress on.

I strained with the corset at my back, managing to only tighten part of it. The top gaped, allowing a draft to chill my skin. I stepped into my haphazardly tossed slippers and shuffled out of the bathing chamber.

“Lord Draven,” I called out, hesitant. “I am ready.”

He leaned against the wall beside the door. “Let us get to work.”

His pace remained steady as I followed him out.

“Stop reading,” he commanded.

I wrenched my focus away from the script on the paper to him on his seat. Shifting my weight to the side allowed my leg a bit of a rest from being curled up on the ground. The Creation Scripture sat before me, slightly propped by a few slim novels I had plucked from the shelf behind me.