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"I suppose I never thought about how she was taking care of her business," he says.
"Speaking of..." I trail off, padding toward the door to his privy.
He looks at me strangely, and for a moment, I wonder if he objects to my using his facility. Then I realize, I shouldn't know where it is. It is in the most obvious place, though, so I pretend not to notice his scrutiny and head in, shutting the door behind me.
I had only popped my head in for a moment when I was snooping through his rooms before, but now I can truly appreciate the opulence. Although there is a large bronze bathing tub, similar to the one in my chambers, there is also a curious section in the corner.
Stone covers the walls in a large rectangular area a few feet high, and a bronze faucet of some sort hangs from the ceiling.
"What is that in the corner of your bathing chamber?" I ask him when I come out.
"I'm not sure there is really a name for it. My father liked to design things, so he had the faucet installed for when he came in from a day of outside work. The water drips down from the top and gathers into a drain so that the dirt and grime don't sit in the tub."
That was all well and good, but there was something far more enticing to me about the structure than the cleanliness of it.
"And no water pools in it?" I reiterate hopefully.
"Right, it all goes right down the drain." He takes in my expression, and his lips draw into a slow smile. "Would you like to try it?"
My mouth goes dry, because I'm not sure if he is offering for me to use it or asking if I would like to try it with him, and I'm not at all sure that I trust myself to choose the right option if I am presented with both. He solves that problem for me, though.
"I'll get you some clothes from your room and wait for breakfast," he says, leaving and pulling the door mostly closed.
That's the right answer. I'm sure it is. Then why is there a tiny, ugly thing inside of me rearing its head…something that feels a lot like rejection?
Chapter Fifty
This is glorious. Einar explained it to me while he was turning it on, something about how the water travels through the same kind of rocks that were at the festival in layers so that it's warm coming out, but I was only half listening, because he still hadn't put a shirt on.
Steaming water cascades from the faucet, falling like one of the warm rain showers on the island. Einar has an array of soaps on a raised tray, so varied that I am almost amused. There is a bar that smells like citrus and has a grainy feel, and a lavender one so soft it is already losing its shape.
I wonder if someone else stocks these for him or if he specifically requests soaps in seven different scents at all times, but I take a moment to sniff each one before I decide on sandalwood. The one that reminds me of him.
I staunchly refuse to think about how today will end, about the fact that I have less than twelve hours left with the only person who has made me feel safe in sixteen years.
Instead, I focus on collecting little pieces of this place to take with me, to wherever I will go next. Einar's voice surprises me out of the line of thought.
"Shall I plan to serve your breakfast in here, or do you think you might be finished anytime soon?" There is laughter in his voice, despite the high-handed words.
"The former, thank you," I shoot back.
He chuckles, a deep, growling sound that I react to low in my abdomen.
"I'm not sure how to turn this off," I offer more seriously, though that is hardly the reason I'm still in here.
"That's all right. I was going to rinse off once you are finished."
I frown, although he can't see me. Last night, he was right. We were both tired. But I am beginning to wonder if he regrets what happened in the caves.
I know that I should, but I can't quite bring myself to.
With all the boldness of the ticking clock my life has become, I call out before he shuts the door.
"You could just rinse off now."
I can't see him, but the door freezes in its path. One beat of silence, and then another, an interminable stretch that makes me wish I could pluck the words back from the air and swallow them before they reach his ears.
The door eases shut, and I am certain my humiliation is complete. But then, I hear solid footsteps, the whisper of cloth sliding against skin, and then he is standing before me.
