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“Is this your room?” I raised an eyebrow.
“It’s my formal room. My real room, my real home, was in the refuge. That’s long since burned down, along with all of my personal items that I actually enjoyed. This is just the room that I sleep in.” He blew out a loud breath and motioned weakly at the room. “The bathroom is right inside that door. You’re welcome to clean up.”
That was a good idea. I cut through the space, mildly worried that I was leaving behind some sort of dirt trail. “You could also use a shower,” I pointed out.
“Yes, well, unless you’re inviting me to join you, I’ll wait out here till you’re done.” He lowered himself into a cushy high-back chair with blue buttons tufting the material.
“Try not to dirty up that chair.” I pressed my lips together to suppress a grin, my cheeks burning annoyingly at his suggestion. Taking another step, I stood in the doorway, my hand already twisting the knob. “Where, um, exactly, is the witch at?”
Dace had closed his eyes, his head tilted back against the tall, cushioned back. For a second he remained quiet and I wondered if he had fallen asleep, but then he lifted his eyebrows, his eyes still closed. “Other side of the castle with Jesseline. You can see her whenever you want, but I suggest waiting till you have regained some strength and energy since she’s a dangerous little bitch.” He spat the last word out like soiled food.
I watched him, amused with the sloppy way his body was sprawled in the chair, unmoving. That would be me soon. Sleep called to me too. So I hurried into the bathroom and quickly undressed.
As I removed my clothing, I could smell the scent of sweat clinging to my body. I took care to set aside the coat Dace had brought for me to wear inside his court on the marbled vanity. Everything else I didn’t care about and left in a heap on the floor. I expected a large tub for soaking in Dace’s bathroom. Didn’t all royalty have obnoxiously large tubs for sex parties and other privileged royal things? His bathroom, though, was simple and relatively small, even in comparison to the room I had stayed in before.
In the middle of the room, the floor dipped subtly with a drain, no curtain or door to provide any sense of privacy surrounding it. My gaze traveled around the walls, all of which were much too far away to have a spout to shower from when the drain was all the way over here. I finally looked up. A large gold shower head dangled from the ceiling.
I spun in a slow circle looking around the room for any sort of knob to turn it on. Nothing. Just plain white walls, the single vanity, and a dresser to the left of the door. Okay, no knobs. Was there a button? Or maybe some sort of switch?
Hugging my arms around myself, I decided to investigate. I wasn’t going to get any warmer standing here naked. Maybe there were buttons on the floor? No, that was a stupid idea.
Inching closer to the drain, I noticed the way the pattern of the floor changed. It went from smooth to a more rough, bumpy texture that surrounded the drain in a square. I toed the square, testing to see if the surface would be painful under my feet. The floor dipped mildly under the pressure I put on it, more spongy than rough.
With a shrug, I stepped fully into the square and heard the hiss of water. Lifting my chin, I looked up into the showerhead and watched as hot water showered down upon me.
“Let me just...” I hummed to myself, stepping out of the square. My feet hit the smooth flooring and the shower clicked off. The water that was dripping in small beads down my body made the chill of the room cling to me.
Shivering, I stepped back into the shower and smiled as the water came down once more. “What an interesting shower.”
When I was satisfied that my body was as clean as it could be, I grabbed the towel off the vanity and began drying myself. I eyed my pile of dirty clothing. I didn’t want to put those back on. The dresser by the door seemed promising though, so I padded over there, leaving damp footprints behind me.
The drawer squeaked oddly as I pulled it out. Plain white t-shirts were folded neatly inside. I pulled one out, holding it up to see the size. It was much bigger than shirts that actually fit me, but not too far off from the typical stolen button up I liked to wear. The plush material of the towel brushed softly against my skin as I pulled it off my torso and set it on the dresser to slip into the shirt. My wet hair dripped down the back, making the shirt's material cling to my skin.
Tracing the knots in the wood, I drew a line to the next drawer’s knob and tugged it open. This drawer was an assortment of pants, all ranging in traditional Twinity Court colors. How boring, what if Dace wanted to wear a deep red? Maybe that just wasn’t his color, but I had no doubt he could make anything look beautiful. Plucking a pair of plain gray sweatpants out, I pushed each foot in and pulled the pants up to my waist. No undergarments; borrowing seemed a little too intrusive for something like that.
The room was filled with a light steam from the heat of the shower. When I opened the door it dissolved into the clear air. My eyes instantly went to the chair Dace had been laid back in. It wouldn’t have surprised me to find him there snoring. Dace probably didn’t snore though, and the chair was empty.
Instead, my ears caught the scratch of a pen on paper and my gaze followed the noise. Dace was perched in the chair at the desk, one hand holding his head, the other scribbling away. He paused, sensing my presence, and glanced back at me. The smile he gave was tired at best as he turned back to this letter. He slapped the pen on the desk and did a doubletake.
“What’s wrong?” My hands clutched the doorway where I stood.
“What—why are you wearing my clothes?” He turned his face away, his cheeks turning an odd pinkish-purple color. Was I making a Fae king blush right now?
“I don’t have anything else to change into. Do you want me to take them off?”
“Yes. No!” he stuttered, refusing to meet my gaze. “You need a different shirt.”
“I need a different shirt? Is this one special to you or something?” My chin lowered as I looked down at the shirt. Water from my hair had successfully soaked through not only the back but now the front too. The steamy bathroom had made me feel all over damp, so I hadn’t noticed when my hair had dripped down the front too, the material clung either way.
“By the mother,” I whispered, folding both arms over my chest. No wonder he blushed, I might as well have come out of the bathroom topless!
“Here, let me…” He stood from the chair, moving toward the wardrobe. Those steady blue eyes kept flicking over to me, his cheeks still heated.
“Stop looking!”
“Sorry,” he said, not sounding very sorry at all. Flinging open the wardrobe, I could hear the rustle of hangers as he thumbed through the clothes.
“I’m not picky, just grab something.”
