The knock on the door came just as I was setting out the dishes on the table. Her Highness had returned.
“You’re back,” I said, ready to welcome her home with a passionate kiss, but Arwin walked right past me and started up the steps toward her room. “Oh, what a cruel woman,” I wailed, pretending to gnaw on a handkerchief in grief as I followed her. Arwin’s armor was specially fitted, making it difficult to remove on her own. She could get it on and off by herself, but it was far faster with a helper.
I knocked on the door before walking in. She was standing near the wall. When I approached, she did not turn to greet me but simply lifted her arms.
“Welcome home. It must’ve been a difficult trip. How did everything go?” I asked, removing her cloak and unfastening the armor clasps. The breastplate separated into front and back halves. In my current state, it was too difficult to hold them myself, so there was a special place to set them down nearby.
“All was well.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
I undid her forearm and shin guards in the same manner, placing them next to the breastplate. Lastly, I rested her sword against the wall. Underneath, she wore a black top and bottom and a dress with a long leg slit. It was a simple outfit, but it served to accentuate the quality of its contents. I felt more blessed when I saw her than any goddess statue in a church, that much was certain. For one thing, I was never possessed with an urge to embrace a stone statue, and none had ever moaned at the touch, in my experience.
“Shall we dine, then?”
Arwin did not answer. She appeared to be in a sulking mood. “I feel sick to my stomach,” she muttered.
“Do I have your permission to weep?”
“I’m not talking about you,” she corrected, sounding a bit abashed. “We ran across a pack of garmhounds on the way out. It’s left me smelling like some unwashed beast. The odor was irritating my nose all the way back.”
“You don’t smell bad to me.” I leaned toward her neck and inhaled deeply. It was the usual fragrant scent. Maybe with a hint of sweat this time.
“I would like to wash up first,” Arwin said, pushing me aside.
“Shall we go to the bathhouse, then?”
The house had no bath. The usual options were to wash with the well water from the yard or wipe yourself off with a wet cloth. I chose the former, while Arwin preferred the latter. When it was cold enough, she’d use water that had been boiled first. If we wanted to have a proper bath, we had to go to the public bathhouse. It would still be open at this hour. Arwin always paid extra for a private room.
“No, I’d rather not. The food will get cold,” Arwin said. With her back to me, she began removing her clothes. Her red hair cascaded over the white skin of her back and shoulders. “Scrub me down.”
“Certainly. Just warn me before you do that.”
It was bad for my heart to skip like that. The problem with women of noble birth was that they had a very understated sense of shame. It made me worry that she might start stripping outdoors one of these days.
“Hang on. I’ll go get the wash basin.” It soaked the floor otherwise.
“Then wash my hair, too.”
“As you command.”
It was a reward for her hard work. I’d bring out the shampoo I’d just bought. And I’d need to heat up the water.
With great effort, I brought the basin into the room. She sat in the middle, and I scooped up the lukewarm water to trickle it over her body. Little splashes of sound filled the room, and droplets ran down her fine hair and unblemished skin. I put the shampoo on my hands and rubbed it into suds, then set to scrubbing Her Highness’s hair. There was a knack to massaging the hair with the fleshy underside of the fingers so that I didn’t do any damage to her scalp or pull the hairs out. Very gently, I combed and washed her hair using my fingers. It was such beautiful hair; I couldn’t allow any dirt to collect in it. And I would die before I let any of those ends split.
“Mm,” she murmured in what I took for pleasure. I couldn’t see her expression. She clasped the edges of the basin and arched her back, just like a cat. The curve of her little butt trembled, sending ripples across the water.
“You do love when your hair is touched.”
“You’re good at touching it.”
“And not simply that it’s me who’s touching it?”
“Fool.”
She turned, and her face was red all the way to her ears.
Once I was done with her head, I traveled down her neck and back. My fingers rubbed suds into each lock of crimson hair, smoothing out the tangles.
The soap suds on her shoulders slid forward in a curve down the front. I wished I could be suds. I wanted to circle around to the front to wipe them off. I wanted to reach around her side and squeeze.
Arwin shook her head, sending suds flying. Some of it landed in my eye, rather painfully.
“Don’t make any sudden moves.”
“Sorry, I got some in my eye,” I said weakly.