Iona felt a little lighter thinking it was as easily dismissed as that. If he was smiling the same way at her simply because she had performed her everyday duties, then surely him smiling at Lady Shannon could be put in the same category of appreciation? Pedestrian and mundane. A mere nod to conventional politeness.
“Thank you,” he said, smile staying on, which meant it had lingered for longer than it had for the lady.
Iona ignored the soft thrill of triumph within, furrowing her brow to cover it up, looking at the hand he was reaching out to her.
She shook her head at him, but clasped his palm in a firm grip, helping him into a seated position. He knew where they were headed and detangled himself from the covers with some effort and a few more groans of displeasure.
Instead of hauling a bathtub into his bedroom, she had begun to frequently utilize the adjacent bedroom, which was kept ready for nighttime “guests”, though it had never been occupied by any such hopefuls.
A fire had been lit in the beautiful fireplace, and Iona felt herself immediately relax in the well-known surroundings. She loved the lack of lavishness in the room. Plain white with light blue details made up the décor. Nothing gilt, nothing overtly extravagant. It wasn’t that she felt uncomfortable in the castle; she had spent the better part of a century and a half walking its halls. The place felt like her home as much as anyone else’s. Granted, she had to curtsey to those dressed in clothes and jewelry that were worth more than she earned in a year, which meant the seclusion of the guestroom had a certain calmness to it. No one but her and Malcolm ever set foot in it, making it a place to rest where there was no guilt over putting her feet up, no worry that someone might walk in and tell her to stop her dawdling.
Not that she dawdled very much. On the occasion when she desperately needed a moment of quiet respite, however, this was where she would come.
She helped Malcolm off with his robe, running her hands over the bruises covering his back with a soft tut before helping him into the tub. He sunk down into the water, letting out a soft sigh of contentment. She knew the temperature would be to his liking. She had been drawing his bath for him for the whole of his adulthood.
“I was glad to have you with me today,” he said.
Her hearts felt light, and something shifted in the middle of her chest, reminding her of the jealousy she’d felt toward Lady Shannon, knowing that the lady had caught his eye for some time now.
“Why was I with you?” she asked. “Lady Shannon said that she thought it obvious you wish to invite me to court, but that’s… that’s not…”
She trailed off, unsure of what to say. The questions had been burning all afternoon, but she regretted broaching the subject when it clearly ruined whatever the mood had been a second ago. He sunk a little further down, taking his eyes off her.
“Not what?” he asked.
“Not very practical,” she offered. He frowned at her, craning her neck to be able to watch as she had a seat on the stool at the head of the tub. “Who will wash your back?” she elaborated, pushing on his shoulder to make him lean forward, giving her easier access.
He huffed a laugh, then made a noise as she grabbed the sponge and started working it along his aching muscles.
“Maybe I should return the favor,” he mumbled.
Her movement paused. He noticed, glancing at her over his shoulder again with a grin on his face that made her slap it with the sponge. He gagged. She smirked, getting back to work.
“You’re not aching?” he pressed.
“The day I get in a tub with you is the day I leave this place,” she replied firmly. “Is that what you want? For me to leave? Is that why you decided to use magic on me today of all days? To make me feel small and powerless before the mighty future monarch?”
“What? No!” he exclaimed, water splashing as he turned to look at her. “You mustn’t ever think that. I don’t… want you to…”
She stared at him. At his stupid face, so full of sudden alarm that it made the blue of his eyes darken. Or perhaps that was the dimness of the lighting. A few candles burned, but most of the light came from the crackling fire in the hearth. The sound seemed to be the only noise in the world.
She knew that she mattered to him, but he rarely said it.
Now he looked it.
She smiled then.
“You can’t possibly see me at court,” she said.
“Of course, I can,” he replied. “You’re there every day.”
“There? In the same rooms, you mean? Walking the same hallways and getting out of everyone’s way. Pretending not to exist in a well-trained and non-offending way.”
“Yes, exactly, all of that,” he nodded.
Why was she growing aware of the water droplets covering his arms, outlining the shape of them, glistening in the flickering light of the fire? Her mind registered first the swell of his shoulder, then the curve of muscle, then his elbow and his lower arm. How it was covered in finer hairs. There was a scar tracing beneath them that she remembered him getting years back when they had played with magic they should not have been playing with.
She was noticing because of his teasing her to get in the tub with him, she determined. And she knew he didn’t really want her to get into the tub with him, so she let the sudden urge to climb in fully clothed go. It would only be so that she could show him how little he had to gain by teasing her. It would not be for any other reason than that. What won out was her wish to know the actual root of his scheming. She couldn’t very well demand an explanation if she was sopping wet and in need of a change of clothes, could she?
