Giving prince a bath
846 Words
The sun rose, pouring its power in every direction. The Princess was the first to notice its rays; she had not slept—not even for a moment.
Every movement of the Prince had been noted. Every turn disturbed her. Every breath of his had been counted.
She now knew that the chandelier above them held exactly one hundred and twelve glass marbles.
Her restlessness did not go unnoticed by the Prince either. He knew she had been awake the entire night. He himself had slept only during the latter half. He was aware that she had watched him—perhaps with fear, perhaps with curses. Yet the touch of her had overwhelmed him. Her skin against his was a sensation he had never experienced before.
Until midnight, he had found ways to touch her—his hand brushing her waist in sleep, resting briefly on her face. Once, she nearly bit his hand in irritation when it lingered too long.
Still, the sleep he did manage was the deepest he had known in years. The warmth between them felt not only erotic but strangely comforting. He woke with a glow, as though infused with sunlight. A rare cheerfulness filled him.
One glance at the Princess told him otherwise. Dark circles beneath her eyes betrayed her sleepless night.
He stifled a laugh.
When he stood, the Princess shrieked. It was not often she woke to a man’s bare form so close to her face. This time, the Prince laughed openly.
Despite herself, she noticed how pleasant his laughter sounded—and for the first time, she truly saw him smile.
Why would the gods give such a beautiful face and smile to someone so arrogant and troublesome? she thought.
The Prince took his robe from the stand and, with his other hand, grasped her wrist.
“Come, Princess Dhara.”
“Where, Your Highness?” she asked, struggling to keep her voice calm.
“You will bathe me today,” he said lightly.
Her eyes widened. He was clearly enjoying the situation—and to her disbelief, he was not teasing. He meant it.
“Your Highness, I would like some clothes,” she pleaded.
“No,” he replied flatly.
She met his gaze for a moment, then looked away. If she could, she would have hidden beneath the bed—but that was beyond her power. His eyes lingered shamelessly, and he made no effort to hide it. Her flushed cheeks and uneven breathing delighted him. Her defiance softened by shyness only deepened his fascination.
When she did not move, he simply lifted her and carried her to the bathing chamber, tossing her into the pool.
She screamed.
As she surfaced, ready to lash out, water splashed into her face, choking her.
The Prince jumped in after her.
Shameless, she screamed inwardly.
If he were anyone else, she would have struck him without mercy. But fate had not favoured her. She caught him staring at her chest and immediately crossed her arms to cover herself.
Is there no one who can save me? she wondered bitterly.
The most powerful man in the kingdom was humiliating her—and she could do nothing.
Am I to be a victim? Should I go to the King? What if he turns this against me? her thoughts spiralled.
“Princess,” the Prince ordered, “move your hands and scrub me.”
Kindly? she shouted in her mind. Lord Sun, take me away.
She took rose petals from a golden jar and began scrubbing his chest, keeping her eyes averted. The Prince watched with amusement. Her hands wandered unknowingly lower, and he caught her wrist, guiding it to his face.
She shivered.
His knowing smile made her swallow hard.
Lord Sun, save me. I swear I will honour you every day, she prayed silently.
Noticing her moving lips, the Prince grasped her waist and forced her to meet his gaze. He disliked when her attention drifted away from him.
He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers.
She closed her eyes and pushed him away with both hands.
He merely smiled—coldly.
“Very well,” he said. “If you wish to leave, then go. Like this.”
Her mind snapped.
“Prince,” she said sharply, “I have followed every one of your orders. Do you expect me to walk through the palace unclothed? Have you no decency at all?”
“So,” he replied calmly, “the Princess does have a tongue.”
She glared at him.
“You will not go without clothes,” he continued evenly. “You will wear mine.”
He stepped out of the bathing chamber and returned with one of his robes, handing it to her with a smile.
Her eyes burned.
Is this his message—that we spent the night together?
Hatred surged through her.
“I hate you, Prince,” she said, her voice shaking. “You may rule kingdoms, but to me, you are nothing more than a shameless man.”
- Writer
