Daeglan’s pointless scrubbing would do little to improve the condition I was in, but cleanliness had little to do with his bathing me. The entire charade was just another power play. He was a worthy opponent, I would grant him that. He had taken into consideration the tiniest of details—from the size of the room, to the pure white walls, his frequency of feedings, to the low-level nutrients he provided, his carefully measured words, and his application of comfort at pivotal moments. He was a master tactician. And I was a merciless warrior who would fight him until the end. The only sound in the small room was the dripping of water, and the swishing noise the sponge made as it brushed across my skin. My nostrils flared on a deep exhale as Daeglan lowered himself to wipe my legs. He may not
