by Frost Kay
“There’s no one here but you and I.” His gaze darted to the bath. “Would you like help?”
Horror seized her. After the debacle three days ago, she didn’t want him anywhere near her when he could glimpse her skin. “No!”
He studied her face and brushed his thumbs along her cheekbones. “You need a bath.”
“Are you saying I stink?” she quipped as her stomach rolled.
He flashed his teeth. “I didn’t say that.”
It was odd to be joking with him while on the verge of a mental breakdown.
“Can you bathe yourself?”
It was on the tip of her tongue to lie and say she could. But they both knew she wouldn’t get in the bath. Chances were that she’d run a wet rag over her body as quick as possible and then avoid this room like the plague.
Tehl must have read her face, for he squared his shoulders and pulled her into a hug. She shuddered and reluctantly wrapped her arms around his muscular form.
“It just so happens that I need a bath, too, and it’s always hard to scrub my own back. Maybe we could help each other out.”
“What?” she gasped as he swung her up into his arms. “No, Tehl.” She couldn’t do this.
“Hush,” he soothed. “Nothing untoward. I want nothing from you.”
He stepped into the tub and plopped down, sloshing water over the edge. Her eyes flew to his face as warm water soaked through her clothing, and panic clawed at her throat.
“You don’t understand,” she whispered.
“Trust me,” he said softly before arranging her to sit between his legs.
Her mouth bobbed when he placed a wet hand against her forehead and gently guided her head back against his chest.
It wasn’t a matter of trust. Sage trusted him. He was with her the entire time in Scythia.
It was the memories it invoked. As much as she wanted to say each one was torture, they weren’t all bad, and that’s what she hated the most.
Her mind flashed to right before she’d left the Scythian castle.
The warlord knelt by the bath, watching her with an intensity that made her gut clench. How long had he been watching her? She crossed an arm across her chest and one to the juncture of her thighs. “Wh-what are you doing?”
“Watching my consort bathe, as is my right.”
She shrank deep into the tub, wishing to disappear from his heated gaze.
“My lord, you’re making my job difficult. No doubt you wanted her to relax during her bath?” Maeve said.
“Indeed,” he murmured. He smiled, all seduction, and skated his fingertip across the top of one of her breasts. “So beautiful.”
Everything cried out at the violation. There was nothing she wanted more than to slap his hand away, but she didn’t. She let him touch her. She had to.
Her breath caught, and her fingers clenched against each of Tehl’s knees.
The warlord hadn’t forced her to let him watch her.
She’d allowed it.
She’d let him touch her in ways her rightful husband hadn’t.
Sage bowed her head and inhaled the scented steam from the water, her mind tearing her apart with guilt.
Tehl’s hand brushed over the crown of her head and down her spine as she fought to ground herself in the moment. It was just her and the crown prince.
He said nothing, but his presence completely surrounded her, making her feel sheltered and cherished. That somehow made her feel even dirtier. She didn’t deserve to be sheltered and cherished.
She stared at her reflection. He didn’t deserve a wife who was unfaithful. Tehl was a good man. He should be married to a good woman as well.
A tear dropped from her cheek, sending a small ripple through the bath water.
Whore. It was an ugly word, but correct in its description.
Scythia whore. That’s what she was.
He deserved the truth, and she couldn’t keep it from him any longer.
Sage
It had been on her mind since she’d awoken.
Every time she glimpsed Tehl’s face, the guilt and shame almost drowned her.
He’d never abandoned her while she was in Scythia. What had she ever done for him? Lied and cheated.
Sage quashed her sorrow and forced the words from her throat that had been suffocating her since the moment she’d found herself in the infirmary.
“I’ve been unfaithful.”
Tehl’s hands froze on her back; the only sound was their breathing echoing in the room.
She expected him to push her away, but he surprised her. His arms wrapped around her middle, and he pulled her snug against his chest, burying his face in her hair.
His breath skated along her neck heatedly. “You are not accountable for his crimes.” His tone brooked no argument. “Never forget that.”
He didn’t understand. She’d made choices. She bit her lip hard and shook her head. “You don’t get it.”
Tehl lifted his head and placed his chin on top of her head. “Sometimes when a man takes what isn’t his,” he said hesitantly, “a woman can be made to feel like it’s her fault, but it’s never her fault. It’s his and his alone.”
Pain lanced her heart as hot as a blade straight from the forge.
Tehl thought the warlord had raped her. What had happened was worse.
“He didn’t rape me.”
Tension drained from his body as he hugged her close.
“Thank God,” he whispered, just as she said, “I said yes.”
His entire body went rigid, his arms turning to bands of steel around her.
The words tasted vile upon her tongue. The truth wasn’t always sweet. It was a double-edged sword. Sometimes, it was painful.
“I’m sorry,” she rasped, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay. If only she’d been stronger, smarter, better.
Silence reigned, so stifling that Sage couldn’t breathe.
She longed to rush from the room, but that was the coward’s way out. She couldn’t run from her problems. Facing what she’d done was part of her punishment.
Just when she thought she couldn’t stand the silence any longer, he spoke.
“What did he do to you?” he whispered.
Everything and nothing.
Her lips trembled as he pressed a kiss to the back of her head. Heat filled her eyes, and the room distorted around her. Why did he touch her like this after she’d betrayed him?
“I don’t blame you,” Tehl said.
“You should,” she said wretchedly.
“I won’t, and I don’t.”
Sage wrenched around to look at him, water splashing over the sides of the tub as she got a good look at his face. He schooled his expression as he met her gaze. Ever calm.
“Why?” she cried, slapping the water with her hands. “I deserve it!” Why couldn’t he see that? Why was he being so nice to her?
His brows slashed together as his blue eyes darkened. “What you had to do in that hellhole to survive doesn’t matter.” He cupped her cheek, his angry expression at odds with his gentle touch. “The only thing that is important is that you’re home.”
She jerked completely around, kneeling between his legs, her finger curling around the tub edges, the stone pressing sharply into her palms. “How can you say that? You don’t even know what I’ve done.”
“What would you have me do?” he asked, holding his hands in the air. “Condemn you for someone else’s actions?”
“You deserve a faithful wife.”
“Don’t I get a say in what I deserve? Do you think either of us deserves to be in this situation?” He pinned her with his narrowed eyes. “Since the beginning, we’ve fought. Fought against each other, fought our enemies. Now, we’re going to fight for each other.” He stabbed a finger at her. “I know you better than you think. You seem to think the weight of the world rests on your shoulders and that you’re responsible for everyone’s actions around you. You’re not.” Tehl ran his wet hands th
rough his inky hair. “I refuse to watch you take responsibility for that monster’s actions.” He eyed her and blew out a breath. “What did he do to you?” he asked brokenly.
“He made me fall in love with him.”
There. The words were out. The ones that haunted her for months.
Part of her wanted the warlord, and it sickened her.
Sage gagged but composed herself.
Her husband didn’t shout, curse, or rage. A sort of sorrow rippled over his face, and he glanced away, rubbing a hand over his mouth.
“How did he manage that?” Tehl glanced in her direction. “He hurt you. How is it possible you fell for him?”
Sage swallowed down a sob threatening to burst from her chest. His questions were fair, but it was like being dragged over hot coals to hear the words from his mouth.
“The only thing I can say is that he broke me down until I had nothing left.”
Tehl scoffed. “I can’t believe that. You’re the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met.”
“When I fought,” she hiccupped, “he hurt others.”
“And that’s love?”
“I don’t know.” She dropped her head into her hands. “But no matter what I do, he’s always in here.” Sage rapped her knuckles against her temple. “I can’t escape him. He was right,” she gasped. “I’ll never escape him.”
Tehl scooted forward and pulled her into his chest. “That’s not love, Sage. That’s control. That’s depravity. True love isn’t like that. He can’t force you to love him. He’s playing sick games with your emotions. He can’t claim you—you were already claimed.”
If only that was the truth.
She shuddered, clutching at his shirt. “Not fully.”
“What do you mean?”
“He married me.” Nausea caused the room to tilt. The words alone made her ill.
“What?” Tehl said confused, his brows knitting together. “That’s not possible. You’re already married.”
She’d thought so, too. “It is.”
“How?”
“He had me examined.” Another violation to lay at the warlord’s feet. “Then claimed me as his consort. He knew our marriage wasn’t consummated.”
A nasty curse burst out of Tehl. She flinched back, but he caught her face between his two hands, his eyes darting all over her face. “Did you consummate his claim?”
“No. He didn’t, we didn’t…”
Sage’s mind darkened. What if the warlord had taken advantage when she was unconscious? What if there was some truth in her nightmares and it wasn’t just her dark imagination?
His shoulders slumped. “Thank God.” Tehl placed a hand over his eyes, hiding his emotions from her.
Everything about this moment was wretched.
She couldn’t feel smaller or dirtier if she tried. Her lips trembled, but she forced them together and pushed to her feet, sloshing water everywhere. She’d lost another part of herself by revealing the truth, but he needed to know.
“I’ll go,” she rasped.
Tehl’s hand curled around her wrist, stopping her from leaving the tub. Sage stared at him while he stared at their hands, her clothes dripping water in a constant symphony of soft plops.
“Sit down.”
“I should go.” It was too hard to stare at his beautiful face after everything she confessed.
“Please don’t.” He tilted his head back and stared up at her through a fringe of dark lashes. “The only place you should be is here.” A pause. “With me.”
Her heart squeezed, and her corsets seemed extremely tight. How could he mean that?
He gave a little tug on her wrist and she found herself slowly sinking into the water. What did she do to have such a man in her life? How was it possible that someone so noble was real?
Her pulse picked up its pace when he placed his hand on her waist and pulled her close, her thighs bracketing his. Tehl reached out and pulled the leather thong from her hair and began to unwind her braid.
Her stomach flipped. She knew where this led.
“Wh-what are you doing?” she stuttered.
“Taking care of you. My job.”
He ran his fingers through her hair and then plucked a vial of soap from the stone edge, pouring a generous amount in his large palms before lathering it.
Entranced, Sage watched his slow but precise movements, completely out of sorts.
He paused and gestured to her hair. “May I?”
When was the last time someone had asked what she wanted? She didn’t deserve his kindness, but she wanted it all the same.
Selfishly, Sage nodded, unable to speak past all the emotions lodged in her throat.
Tehl ran his hands along her scalp and began to massage. Her eyes slowly closed as he methodically scrubbed her hair, leaving nothing untouched. He pulled her hair over her right shoulder and lathered bubbles to the tips.
Tears prickled behind her lids. There was something so intimate about another person washing your hair. Anger and sadness battled with each other. This was another thing the warlord had stolen from her. Her memory resurfaced.
His hands moved to her head, and she hummed, soothed by the soft touch of his hands through her hair. His hands stilled.
“You like that?”
“Mmmhmm… My mum used to wash my hair and brush it for me. I love it,” she said, not knowing why she gave a stranger that information.
“I’ll remember that,” he rumbled and began washing her hair again.
A few times, she hissed as he untangled her matted locks, but for the most part, it was the best thing that had happened to her in a very long time. It was the last good memory she’d have before she died. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” he hummed.
She breathed through the onslaught of images and forced her eyes open to stare into deep blue eyes, not the obsidian ones of her dreams.
“I can see he haunts you.” It was a statement. No judgement.
“He’s everywhere.”
“Even here?” Tehl gestured to the tub.
Especially here.
She bit her lip and nodded, waiting for his reaction.
His lips pursed, and his jaw clenched, but they were the only signs he was angry.
He slowly released his breath and began lathering her hair again. “Then we’ll make new memories. Happy ones.”
“You want to make new memories with me?” Hope fluttered in her chest, unbidden and unwanted. Hope destroyed.
“I do.”
“After everything?”
He met her gaze squarely. “Yes.”
It seemed too good to be true, but Tehl said he’d always be honest with her. She glanced to the side of the tub, his gaze too much to take in, when her attention snagged on the soap. The crown prince had shown over and over that he was worthy of every good thing life had to offer. Since Sage had entered his life, she’d made a right mess of things.
There was one thing she could do for him. It was small and wouldn’t make up for all of her sins, but it was something. “Is it all right if…” she hesitated and gestured to the soap.
Tehl cocked his head, studying her. “You don’t have to. This was just for you. This moment is not about me.”
She wanted to. To give back to him after everything he’d done. Even if it was as small as washing his hair.
“I want to.”
It was only three words, but they held a weight that settled between them.
“If you wish.” He winced. “I didn’t mean I don’t wish it. Only that if you want to… I mean, I’d like that.”
Sage smiled at his rambling.
His awkwardness was still there. That comforted her in a way she hadn’t expected. It was normal. Normal was something she’d lacked for a long time.
She leaned forward and wobbled, her knees slipping. Tehl’s hands gripped her waist, steadying her. Her pulse jumped, but she avoided his gaze and ran her soapy fingers through his dark locks.
; He sighed, his breath ghosting over her cheek.
It was a simple task, but it was somehow more intimate than anything she’d ever experienced. They were two beings caring for each other who expected nothing in return. It was beautiful. She blinked repeatedly to keep the ever-hovering tears at bay.
She worked at the muscle at the base of his head, and Tehl groaned, slumping further into the tub, his eyes fluttering shut. Her nerves disappeared a little more with his attention not focused on her.
Sage tracked how his obsidian hair slid over her pale skin. It was a dichotomy of opposites.
He was the dark to her light, but really it was the opposite.
He was the light to her darkness.
She cupped her hands in the warm water and rinsed his hair, making sure to avoid his eyes, then openly stared at her husband.
The strong line of his square jaw highlighted his sharp cheekbones. She found herself tracing the bridge of his nose and the delicate skin underneath his down-swept lashes. He was so different from her and yet so beautiful.
Her fingertips skimmed his top lip and the dimple in his right cheek. She continued to follow the length of his neck to the hollow at the base of his throat.
Tehl swallowed, and her eyes flew back to his face.
Brilliant blues met her gaze. They snared her, warmth spreading through her as he gazed back unflinchingly.
“It’s okay to touch,” he said, his voice gravely.
Their breath mingled as they stared at each other.
Her gaze dropped to his lips.
It felt like a lifetime ago since she’d kissed him.
Without really making the decision, she leaned close and pressed her lips to his. That’s all it was, a press of lips, but she felt it to her toes, and it unlocked a torrent of emotion.
His breath deepened like he was struggling to draw in enough air. Her fingers brushed against the length of his neck, his skin hot and damp.
She stopped breathing when his hands traveled from her hips and wrapped around her waist, like bands of steel, his fingers tangling in the wet strands of her hair.
“I wasn’t prepared for this,” he whispered against her lips.
His lips brushed hers again, soft, gentle. He kissed her like he was trying to memorize the moment, their lips melding and drifting away. Cherishing.