Page 23 of The Huntsman's Heart
“Fetch the boxes from the queen’s chest,” calls Évandre to Corvin.
“I’ll get flowers.” Raban leaps into the air, and with a few sweeps of his feathered wings he’s off, swooping to snatch thepretty pink blossoms that sprinkle the bushes growing from every crevasse in the courtyard.
Rising from my nest of leaves at last, I join the hounds who caper around my legs. As soon as the gargoyles decided on this task, the mood in the castle lifted. Even I am finding it hard to stay morose at the prospect of a bath. My skin is clammy and smeared with mud and dried blood. My hair must be a matted mess. It would be so nice to feel clean again.
The gargoyles carry armfuls of sticks and wood through the courtyard. Then they follow with bundles of cloth and a large wooden chest that looks so heavy it should take two of them. Corvin lifts it easily, making quick work of the trip. Curious, I follow them around behind the tallest of the still-standing walls to find Évandre bent over and stretching to reach in through an opening at the base of the wall.
He sits back on his haunches and smiles at me. “There. Fire lit. It should be warm in no time.”
I frown. “The bath is in there?”
They just laugh at me.
“No, princess,” says Évandre. “Follow me.”
He leads me back into the courtyard and through an arch into a ruin of what must have once been a small chamber. What I didn’t notice at first is the trapdoor in the floor. Probably because it was covered with dirt and debris.
Corvin sweeps aside the mess with one clawed foot and lifts the door, revealing a wide stone staircase which descends below ground. Holding a torch high, Raban leads the way. Once we have reached the bottom of the staircase, even Évandre, who stands a head taller than the other two, can straighten. Their wings give them more trouble, taking up the entire width of the corridor. Because Raban is ahead of me, I can barely see anything until suddenly we come to an opening and two things hit me immediately. Warmth coats my skin, welcoming me intoa room glittering with thousands of shining tiles in blue and white.
I gasp aloud, staring in wonder at the round room and the delicate mosaic that adorns the walls, filled with seashells and dolphins, leafy trees and waterfalls. “It’s beautiful.” My whispered words fill the space, echoing around the tiled room.
“We thought you might like it.” Raban hangs his torch in a niche, and Corvin moves to open the large wooden chest he must have brought down earlier. Inside there are bolts of cloth which look relatively untouched. He lays one on the floor by a sunken basin filled with steaming water, and I step closer, looking into the pool, trying to gauge the depth.
I want nothing more than to slip right in, but that will mean getting undressed. Chewing my lip, I glance at my new friends.
The gargoyles watch me expectantly.
“What are you waiting for, princess?” asks Corvin.
“Perhaps you need help to undress?” Raban steps forward.
I cough and instinctively raise my hands to my cheeks to feel a blush that never comes. “I will manage.” I look again at the steaming water. Raban even sprinkled flower petals over the surface so a floral smell floats sweetly around us. I could demand that they leave, but they have been so kind and generous. And I don’t know how they would react.
They are statues after all. They must have seen plenty from their perches on the roof. Perhaps they’re not even men. After all, who would bother carving that sort of detail into a guardian angel or a gatekeeping sphynx? And what modesty have I left to protect after Alaric ripped it from me by force?
Decision made, I tug off my jacket and untie the lace holding my torn chemise together. Without second guessing myself, I drop it to the ground and untie the ribbon holding up my skirts, discarding those too. Raban bends, scooping my dirty clothes from the floor and placing them aside, reaching for my boots.
Naked apart from my shoes, something light and fluttery ignites low in my belly as the handsome monster bends his shaggy head and lifts my foot onto his knee, gently unlacing it. He slips it off, and I switch my weight to the other leg so he can remove that one too.
Raban lifts his head, and for a moment I almost stumble. The look on his face as he gazes up at me is all heat and awareness. Full of masculine admiration and raw need. I feel far less certain that my new friends are impassive observers.
Nothing to be done now, though.
Raban releases my foot and stands, stepping back and dropping his gaze, and just like that the heat is gone. I almost wish it back again. Almost wish for the heat and the buzz of energy.
Brushing the unwanted thought away, I step into the bath and sigh at the kiss of the warm water. Trying to ignore my self-consciousness, I descend the steps until at last the water covers my chest. Then I let out a long sigh.
“Better, princess?” Évandre asks eagerly.
“Thank you.”
Gingerly I wash the mud and blood stains from my skin, leaning back to wash my hair. They hand me soaps and a comb. They even crouch by the bath to brush out the tangles. Somehow the bath stays warm and the room loses none of the lovely steam.
“How is the bath heated?” I ask Corvin, who is brushing the last of the knots from the ends of my hair.
“The heat from the fire we lit outside travels through passages beneath the bath house. Clever, is it not?”
“Wonderful.” I wish we’d had something like this to soothe the chill of long cold winters back home. Thinking of home makes me sad, though, and I fall quiet again.
