A little while later, they were soaking in the large bathtub. Arianna, clad only in her thin undergarments, could feel the heat of the king's gaze burning through her skin.
She sat at the edge of the tub, Duncan positioned between her legs, as she lathered his long, dark hair with soap. It flowed like silk through her fingers, soft and smooth.
How could a man have such beautiful hair?
"You have nice hair, your Grace," she whispered, gently scrubbing his scalp with her fingers while the King stared at her.
She cleared her throat. "Your Grace, can you turn around?"
Not just him staring, it was uncomfortable washing his hair as he was a large male.
"Call me your Grace again, and you won't be able to walk until tomorrow," he warned. "And I do not want to turn around. I want to stare at y
