I Tamed the Monstrous Prince - Chapter 38
Chapter 38
The cascading water intensified since I’d entered, our bodies naturally drawn together in the now-cramped tub. It felt strangely intimate, two people in such a small space. ‘Thank goodness we’re alone. Not so bad, is it?’
I shifted, trying to sit beside Cesar, but avoiding contact in the confined space proved difficult. My thin muslin chemise, a loose weave, billowed around me in the water. The white fabric floated up, threatening to reveal my skin. I quickly pressed it down. Cesar, commendably obedient, seemed to remember my earlier instruction to keep a firm grip on his clothes. He sat still, clutching the fabric tightly.
“Ow.”
Despite my efforts, the water stung the cut on my hand. Cesar’s eyes snapped to my injury, his pupils seeming to dilate and contract.
“Wh-what is it?” My voice trembled, unnerved by the sudden change in his demeanor. I instinctively recoiled.
Then, a soft sound. Cesar kissed my hand. A warm, wet flick of his tongue traced the cut. Unlike the sharp, biting contact from earlier that morning, this touch was gentle. I’d learned to recognize the difference.
This wasn’t the bloodlust of before. He lapped at the wound with the tenderness of one wounded creature comforting another. The sensation, so soft and soothing, sent a shiver through me. I couldn’t bring myself to pull away. I reached out, stroking his hair, then, a playful impulse rising, ruffled it roughly. “You’re giving me whiplash.”
“Heh.”
His lips curved into a disarmingly handsome smile, sending a flutter through my chest. I coughed, blaming the heat of the water for my flushed cheeks. “You know, I like things clean.”
“Clean?”
I nodded. Perhaps it was a consequence of having lived in such squalor for so long, but I craved cleanliness, the feeling of being fresh and pure. “Yes. I’d like it if you smelled nice, Cesar.”
“Nice…”
Unsure how he interpreted that, I decided to show him. I reached for the soap on the wooden tray beside the tub. It was a fine quality bar, and the rich lavender scent filled the air. “Here, smell this. Nice, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
I carefully worked up a lather, avoiding my injured hand. Cesar watched, tilting his head with curiosity. Amused, I dabbed a bit of foam on his nose. He wrinkled it, the bubble popping and disappearing on the water’s surface. He blinked, seemingly disappointed.
“I’d like it if you smelled like this. Would you mind?”
He slowly nodded.
“We start with the hair.” I recalled Annalisa’s childhood lessons: wash from top to bottom for a proper bath. I wet his long, floating hair. “First, the water, then the soap. Like this, make a lather.” I demonstrated, slowly washing my own hair. “Can you do it yourself?”
He didn’t answer, only stared, fascinated. ‘Well, I didn’t expect miracles. It’s his first time.’
I placed the lather on his head. Having seen me use it, he didn’t resist. “Turn around. Close your eyes tight, so the soap doesn’t get in them.”
As he turned in the water, it sloshed over the edge. He stumbled, then landed against me, nestled in my arms. This actually made the task easier.
“Good.”
