126

As Toreh pushed open the heavy wooden door and entered, she was immediately hit by the humid warmth that enveloped her. The air was thick with the scents of fragrant oils and herbs. The soft, flickering glow of candles lined the walls, casting dancing shadows that seemed to whisper tales of forgotten legends.

The centerpiece of the bathhouse was a series of interconnected pools, each one larger than the last. The pools were made of glistening blue tiles that shimmered like frozen sapphires under the soft candlelight. Intricately designed mosaics depicted scenes of nature, mythological creatures, and historical events, adding a touch of artistry to the serene ambiance.

Toreh's eyes were drawn to the largest pool at the center, and her breath caught as she took in the scene before her. Eloive was reclining in the pool, his sculpted form partially submerged in the warm water. Two young maids, their clothing clinging to their bodies, stood on either side of him, diligently lathering his skin with soap.

Eloive's eyes were closed, and he seemed lost in the moment, completely oblivious to Toreh's entrance. His raven-black hair was slicked back, and droplets of water clung to his chiseled chest and strong shoulders. The flickering candles played tricks with the water, creating a mesmerizing dance of light and shadow on his skin.

Toreh's gaze shifted to the maids, who appeared equally lost in their task. They were young and fair, their eyes downcast as they attended to the prince. Their movements were graceful and almost choreographed, a testament to their training in the art of pampering royalty.

For a moment, Toreh felt like an intruder in this intimate tableau. She hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. Eloive's presence here was unexpected, and she had never seen him in such a vulnerable state before. Yet, her determination to confront him pushed her forward.

Clearing her throat, Toreh finally spoke, her voice cutting through the humid silence. "Leave us."

Eloive's eyes snapped open in surprise as he heard her voice. He sat up abruptly, water cascading from his body as he turned to face her. "Toreh!"

The maids, seemingly unfazed by her presence, exchanged glances but made no move to leave. "We take no orders from a slave," they chorused, their tone dismissive.

Toreh exhaled sharply, her frustration mounting. "My prince, would you be so kind to send them away?"

Eloive's gaze shifted from Toreh to the maids and back to Toreh. He seemed torn, caught between his desire for privacy and his need to address Toreh's presence.

"And who would take their place if they leave, huh?" Eloive asked, his eyes fixed on her.

Toreh's determination remained unwavering. "I must admit, I have quite the knowledge," she replied, though she couldn't fathom why Eloive needed those maids when he appeared perfectly capable of bathing himself.

"We would never allow a slave girl to bathe our prince!" the maids chorused once more, their loyalty to Eloive evident.

"Tanya, Tarey, it's fine. You can take your leave," Eloive finally said, though he sounded reluctant.

The maids grumbled but eventually left, their disdainful glares directed at Toreh as they departed. As they walked away, another figure emerged from beneath the water, catching Toreh by surprise.

"Including you, Tonia," Eloive added.

Toreh watched in astonishment as another young girl, previously hidden beneath the water's surface, rose gracefully from the pool. She was clad in nothing but a flimsy cloth that covered her private parts. Toreh's eyes widened, taken aback by the intimate nature of the bathhouse.

The young girl approached Eloive with a deferential bow, her gaze lowered. "Your private parts are clean, my prince," she murmured.

Toreh's jaw dropped, her disbelief evident. "Private parts? She cleaned your private parts?"

Eloive's lips quirked into a bemused smile. "You sound surprised, Toreh."

“Not as surprised as I was when I heard you were looking for me,” Toreh said as she bolted the doors before facing him.

“Why were you looking for me, my prince?”

“Stop it. I hate it when you address me by my title.”

“Well, I hate it when you flaunt it before me.”

“Flaunt? You think I’ve been flaunting my title?”

“I don’t think, I know. I swear by what you believe in prince, if you do that again, you’ll never see me again.”

“I’ll still see you, now that my grandmother wants to make you my tutor,” Eloive said smugly.

“I can always refuse,” she said, climbing the steps up to the tub.

“You can, but you won’t.”

“Why? What makes you think that I will not refuse?”

“You’d be foolish to do so, turn down a royal off, especially when it would help uplift your status.”

She was baffled. “This is the first time you’re mentioning my status. Stupid of me to forget what I am,” she muttered as she resumed the girls’ work, scrubbing hard at Eloive’s skin.

“You know, you could be a little gentler. You’re making me red.”

“A man is only red when he’s bleeding,” she said as she poured water on his skin. “You ought to choose your words more carefully prince.”

“Did I upset you?”, Eloive asked as Toreh scratched at his scalp, washing off dirt and debris. She remained quiet before rinsing his hair, undoing knots and massaging his scalp.

“Toreh, I asked you a question.”

“And I chose not to answer,” she said curtly as she dropped the bowl and wiped her hands clean. For all she knew, she was done.

Eloive faced her. “I hate it when you are like this. Keeping things bottled up. What’s making you upset Toreh?”

“I never said I was upset.”

“But your eyes did,” he said, grabbing her hands. “How have I offended you?”

She glared at his hands. “I don’t want your hands on me.”

“Your wants don’t matter. Not here. Not anywhere.”

She was hurt. “I thought you were different from the rest. That you were noble, decent. That you cared! But for the past few days, you’ve truly reminded me of what I am. A mere property!”, she yelled. Wrenching her hands free from his. “Tell me Eloive, is this what you call love? Is this how you choose to love me?”

He swallowed hard. “If I say no, what difference does it make? We can never be together. Even if you were to be freed, you’re not an Icelander, therefore we won’t exist.”

“We never existed. The only thing that ever existed was our friendship but somehow, you’ve managed to ruin that too,” she said, descending the stairs.

“I ruined our friendship? You’re the one who kept pushing me away!”

“And maybe I pushed you too far away and right into Samantha’s arms.”

He laughed. “So that is what this is about. You’re jealous. You’re fucking jealous!”

“I can only be jealous if you were mine. You’re not and you will never be because a slave has no belongings. Your Samantha was king enough to remind me.”

He snorted. “My Samantha? Toreh, you’re being childish!”

She rolled her eyes. “I am a child. I have every right to be childish.”

“Join me,” he said, moving to where she was.

“I cannot. I refuse to keep the queen waiting.”

“My grandmother won’t die if you stood her up. Join me.”

“I have no spare clothes.”

“Then save your clothes. Take them off before coming in.”

“The man who will marry me is the one I shall strip for.”

Eloive laughed. “I’m not asking you to strip Toreh. I’m asking you to join me.”

“To do so, I have to be naked,” she said, eyeing him. “So yes, you are asking me to strip.”

“I shan’t laugh if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“I could care less what the prince thinks of my body.”

Eloive leaned forward. “Toreh, I’m sorry. If you have had any affection for me at all, join me.”

She just looked. And looked, and kept looking. The prince had his answer.

“You’ve never felt something? Not even an iota of affection?”

“If I once felt, I do not know because your ill disposition towards me has rid me of every feeling.”

“My ill disposition? Toreh, I’ve been nothing but nice to you.”

“You were once, but now? I’m not so sure.”