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“Have you never visited one?”
Cynthia shook her head. “The most popular thermal waters in England are in Bath, one hundred and twenty miles away. I’m afraid I’ve not had much opportunity to venture so far from home.”
“Italy has many such thermal waters. Not just in Parmenza, where I am from. Hot, luxurious waters are found naturally around the base of several of our volcanoes. I think you would like them.”
“I know I would,” Cynthia said with feeling. “I’ve dreamt of traveling widely. But I’ll likely never leave here.”
“Won’t you?” The princess’s expression was unreadable. “I wonder.”
Heavy steps sounded on the stairs, followed by loud panting and muffled swearing, then the appearance of Lady Tremaine and her daughters hauling the final buckets of steaming water.
Flushed and sweating, they dumped the water into the oversized tub, then turned to Princess Ammalia rather than to Cynthia. “Anything else, your highness?”
“That will be all for now.” The princess’s expression was now aloof and imperious. “I will summon you if I have need of your aid.”
Stasia and Dorothea exchanged pained glances, but scurried down from the attic before Princess Ammalia could change her mind. As much as they despised being treated like servants, the abrupt dismissal was a relief too precious to ignore. They exited in such a hurry, a candle was left behind.
After depositing soap and a towel next to the tub, Lady Tremaine gave a final curtsey before closing the door and hurrying after her daughters.
“Now then,” said the princess. “Where were we?”
Cynthia swung her alarmed gaze toward the clean, hot bath with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. She’d never undressed in front of a stranger before, much less a woman who set her pulse racing. Now that the time to disrobe had come, the moment seemed sharper and more real than anything she had ever experienced before. She did not want to disappoint the princess.
“I hope you know what we’re doing,” Princess Ammalia said in a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ve never remained on the outside of a bath I summoned before.”
Cynthia laughed, and the moment was suddenly bearable. Whatever happened, the princess wouldn’t judge her. She was in fact just as lost in this new landscape as Cynthia was. They were both on the same side.
“Fear not,” Cynthia assured her. “All of my gowns are designed to be donned and doffed without aid of a lady’s maid.”
“That might have been a gown once,” said the princess with a dubious expression, “but the material is now hanging from you in strips and tatters. I fear it is fit for the fireplace or the rag bin.”
Cynthia nodded tightly. Her mother’s gown… but she would not think about how Morningstar’s claws and her stepsisters’ hands had rent the once-fine fabric into fraying shreds. Over the past five years, there’d been a surplus of heartbreaking moments in which Cynthia had weathered some form of torture or another.
This moment was about Princess Ammalia. Cynthia was determined to make it a memory to cherish.
She stripped the ruined garments from her body with as much dignity as she could manage, then quickly stepped into the hot water before her nakedness could overwhelm her.
Only once she was immersed in the water up to her knees and shoulders did she realize she had neglected to retrieve the scented soap from its position nestled atop the folded towel.
“Er…” She cleared her throat. “Would you be so kind as to hand me the soap?”
Rather than drop the soap into Cynthia’s outstretched palm as expected, Ammalia paused, then dropped to her knees and began to suds Cynthia’s curved back. Soon the bubbles rose to her shoulders.
The sensation was incredible. A mix of the relaxation that came from long-tight muscles being massaged into putty, and the sense of connection that came from another human being taking the time to care for her, with her full attention and gentle sweetness.
“Is this… all right?” asked the princess.
“I could marry you,” Cynthia said on a sigh.
The princess stopped sudsing.
“Figuratively,” Cynthia blurted out. “Metaphorically. All I meant was… Yes, it’s all right.”
“All you meant,” the princess murmured. “Of course.”
The sudsing of Cynthia’s back resumed, this time in silence.
The resulting bathing experience was both more than she ever dreamt and yet not quite everything she wanted. Princess Ammalia was touching her, but not in the way Cynthia most desired—and only one of them was naked. There was a moment when Cynthia almost thought… but no. The princess was simply being extraordinarily, improbably kind.
