The Lycan King's Puppet-Chapter 47: Draw the King a Bath

Chapter 47: Draw the King a Bath
The carriage rider opened the door for them.
Claire pitied the man - he had been called away from the festivities very early.
The man took in his dripping clothes with a brief glance, never daring to meet his gaze.
Claire climbed in first and took her seat across his - exactly where she had sat before.
Yeren took his seat across from her and the carriage door slammed shut.
She knew the ride back would be silent.
But the silence was choking.
She kept darting glances at him. His hair was wet and matted to his face.
His garments clung like a second skin, his skin glistened.
Then, he leaned forward and removed the coat he had been wearing, holding it out the window as he squeezed most of the water out of it.
The way the sleeve of the shirt clung to his arms...
"I assume you would need wine after the... events that just took place." She said in an attempt to make conversation.
His gaze met hers for the first time since they had entered the carriage.
"Maybe, I will."
They returned back to silence for a while.
She tried to busy herself by focusing on the golden embroidery that lined the velvet cushions.
"The council doesn’t approve of me. They made it very clear."
Those eyes caught hers again, boring into her with an intensity that made her weak in the knees. And to make things worse, he wasn’t smiling.
Had she offended him again?
"I don’t remember giving my council any say in my private affairs."
"I am not one of your private affairs, Your Grace."
His gaze never left hers.
"Yes, I forgot. You’re my servant. And, as my servant, I can choose to dismiss you at my discretion, can I not?"
She gulped.
"I believe so, Your Grace."
"Then, doesn’t that constitute my private affair?"
She looked away.
"It does, Your Grace. But it doesn’t make it any less-"
"Enough, Miss Stenly."
The carriage shook as it rode over a bump.
Claire slid forward as she was taken unawares.
His knee rammed into hers, eliciting a wince from her.
Yeren moved his knee away and muttered an apology.
The carriage finally pulled up at the castle.
The beautiful stone structure with all its towers always took her breath away each time she saw it.
"My lady." The carriage rider held a hand out to assist her.
She wanted to correct him, but a glance from Yeren stopped her.
Taking the hand, Claire slid out of the carriage.
The yard was empty, completely devoid of life. Only a few stable boys, cooks and scullery maids would have stayed behind.
And she realized exactly what that meant - she was as good as alone with the King.
Did she make a mistake coming back with him?
He reached where she stood and stopped as well.
"The sun is hot, you should come inside."
He was right, the sun here was much harsher that the one at the picnic.
But it was the near-concern in his voice that caught her attention.
The guards who had arrived in the carriage behind them followed quietly behind.
The steps to his chambers were endless.
Each time, she’d pause and lean against the stone wall to catch her breath.
And he’d wait with her.
When they got to the door, he paused.
"Find a maid to draw a bath for me, preferably warm." Then he went inside and closed the door before she could utter a word.
Stunned, she stood there for a few minutes.
Draw a bath?
A warm bath?
Claire prayed deep in her heart that a few of the chambermaids remained behind.
Yet, the echo of her footsteps as she passed each hall reminded her of how empty the large building was.
Her first destination was the servant’s quarters - where the meeting had been held.
There was no one there.
After asking a few people, she finally found the kitchen.
When she glanced back, she saw the guard designated to her following at a distance.
The kitchens were almost empty. A few cooks and scullery maids were cleaning the place and making preparations for dinner.
"Excuse me," she said to a maid that looked forthcoming.
The woman was on all fours, scrubbing away at the soot that stained the walls surrounding the stove.
The woman looked up once.
"Are there any available chambermaids? The King wants a bath drawn for him."
The woman stopped her scrubbing and looked up, pushing her dark hair away from her eyes.
"Aren’t you a maid? You are capable of drawing a bath, aren’t you?"
Claire almost gasped.
"I’m afraid I am-"
"She’s the Cupbearer." Another woman volunteered, her voice laced with contempt.
The woman she had been talking to sighed and returned to her work.
"Draw a wine bath for him then, girl. There are no available chambermaids. The King was not supposed to be back this early and there are no extra wagons and carts for them to use."
And just like that, she was dismissed.
Claire staggered back, dazed.
Was she supposed to draw his bath?
How did she even begin to do it? She couldn’t imagine hauling pails of hot water up the endless stairway.
Claire glanced helplessly at her guard.
A few minutes later, Claire was trudging up the stairs, her sleeves rolled up to her upper arms, clutching a half-filled pail containing hot water.
Her guard carried two full pails behind her as if he was holding chunks of bread.
He proceeded to the bathing room while she stayed back to rest.
Hard work wasn’t meant for her, she’d lament.
The bathing room was huge. The windows were large, inviting the sunlight in a way that cast no shadows. The floor was made of marble, grounded at the edges of the tub to prevent people slipping. A shelf of towels stood near the door that led to the outside. There were two doors - one that led directly to the King’s chamber, and the one servants used to come in.
Her mouth hung open when she saw how large the tub was.
The water they brought barely filled one-fifth of it.
Perspiration beaded on her brow.
When would they fill it up? There had to be an easier way.
She had to confront her nemesis - the stairs.
Two of them returned to the kitchens for more water.
Another torturous journey back to the bathing room.
By the time the bath was full, her guard, Terrence, had removed his helmet and chainmail. They were drenched in sweat, panting louder than cows in labour, yet laughing nonetheless.
Before then, he’d just been the nameless guard that followed her around.
Claire had developed a certain amount of respect for the chambermaids - carrying such amounts of water up the endless flight of stairs was a feat in itself, even if they might have grown accustomed to it.
Terrence left the room, picking up his discarded garments.
She went towards the door that led to the King’s room and knocked.
As she was about to knock again, the door slid open.
He was dressed in a bathing robe. She could see his wet clothes from earlier slung over a chair.
"Your bath... is ready."
She knew she looked tardy, her hair was matted to her forehead, her dress was dark with perspiration around her neckline and underarms.
"Did you prepare my bath yourself?"
Claire froze.
"Yes, Your Grace. There were no available chambermaids."
He brushed past her and moved to the edge of the large tub.
Claire stood still, ready to be dismissed.
"Should I wait?"
"No. But don’t go far - in case I’m in need of wine."
Nodding, she left the room to fetch a jug of wine.
When she returned with the jug and goblet, he was already in the bath. His robe laid in a heap a good distance away.
The sight of him was very disturbing.
His lower half was buried underneath the sudsy water, but it didn’t stop her breath from catching.
His eyes were closed as he leaned back.
There was no hair on his chest. The lean muscles, the abs, the contours...
His skin glistened like molten gold underneath the glare of the sun.
The goblet slipped from her hand, clattering loudly on the marble floor.
His eyes snapped open, pinning her immediately.
Claire froze like a child caught with her hand in a cookie jar.
She sheepishly stooped and picked up the goblet, setting it on the table clumsily.
"Since you’re here, bring me some wine."
She gulped before turning to do as she was told.
The sight of him was doing unwelcome things to her.
She filled half of the goblet and picked it up.
Her hands were shaking as she walked to where he was.
She had to crouch carefully without spilling the drink in order to give it to him.
He took the goblet from her.
Claire was happy that for once she hadn’t spilled a drink on him. Up close, he looked even more magnificent. Water glistened on his eyelashes like diamonds suspended in time.
His eyes...
And her happiness was
short-lived. As she struggled to stand up, she slipped on the wet marble floor and fell face flat into the water.
What the...