Page 37 of Vows of Sacrifice

“My lady, would you ask the servants to prepare a bath for me? I’d then like you to stay with me and we’ll talk,” announced Dovah, as his face disappeared in huge billows of smoke from his cigar.

I rubbed my hands together mechanically. It was a nervous tic I sometimes had.

“Do you have a specific subject in mind?” I asked.

The idea of being next to him while he bathed made me want to flee the room, while my heartbeat accelerated. Dovah smiled at me. A smile that was both charming and unsettling. He narrowed his eyes to study me through his lashes, like a wild beast sizing up its prey.

“No, not really. I just want to learn more about you. Your childhood. Some anecdotes . . . I’m curious.”

“Oh.”

“You can also ask me questions, of course.”

“Obviously,” I repeated automatically.

This response made his smile grow wider. I complied and went off in search of servants to change the bath water. Once this task was completed, I returned to our room and . . .

“Good heavens!” I exclaimed covering my face with my hands.

Dovah was completely naked. Without having detailed him for too long, I missed nothing of his body stripped of clothes.

“Call me Dovah, it’ll be easier.”

And he dared to enjoy the situation!

“This cannot be done!” I protested, moving forward cautiously, unable to look where I was stepping.

“I am your husband, and I have no issue with nudity. How is this improper, as long as I don’t force you to walk around in your birth clothes?”

He laughed heartily while my heart, still in shock, seemed intent on leaping out of my chest.

“Perhaps I should demand this in an Osacanian prenuptial agreement, what do you think?” he then proposed. “Imagine the two of us, every day, living naked within the confines of this room. I like the idea.”

“I don’t like the idea,” I retorted immediately.

Slowly, I tried to check if he had at least covered the lower part of his body. Realizing he hadn’t, I cried out again. A cry that made him laugh again.

“For heaven’s sake, Dovah! Put something around your waist!”

I heard him sigh, then a rustle of fabric told me he’d complied.

“It was premeditated on your part, wasn’t it?” I questioned, without daring to remove my hands from my eyes.

“Not at all, my lady.”

“Liar!” I accused him.

“Okay, I hoped for it. . . A little.”

“Scoundrel!”

“I’m a bad boy. I confess. I just found the possibility of troubling you quite amusing. Alright, you can open your eyes now. I’ve hidden the important parts. Your modesty is safe.”

I obeyed and found that he had indeed put a sheet around his waist. He was nonetheless terribly handsome, like a statue of a lust deity. Dovah let me contemplate him at my leisure, while a satisfied smile floated across his lips.

“When you look at me like that, I’m on the verge of giving in to my impulses.”

I pulled myself together immediately. I often felt he knew me better than I knew myself. As soon as the servants had finished changing the water, Dovah slid into the tub—almost too small for him—expressing his contentment with a grunt more animal than human. Cautiously, I approached him, but not enough to be tempted to examine what lay beneath the surface. I sat down on a small stool in a position that propriety would have approved of.

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