Chapter 13

"Please dress lightly and in something that can easily be taken off."

"What?!"

Medina saw the look on her face and returned her blush. She too knew what it sounded like and quickly explained.

"On your schedule today is a visit to the hamam with Prince Lambert. It's like a spa. The masseurs can be rough so I recommend something that will be gentle against your skin."

"Oh! Okay. Well, that's good." She breathed a loud sigh of relief. It took her a minute to settle down before anything else could register. "A spa, that's good. I can handle that."

It seemed to be a draw between good and bad. On one hand, a trip to the spa would definitely be a treat. On the other hand, it was one she had to share with Lambert. She was a little worried about modesty but quickly laughed it off. In a country where showing her shoulders was indecent, there was no way she'd have to worry about any kind of intimacy with him. It was just a spa after all so at least they'd be wearing bathing suits. Maybe they'd even have a partition or separate rooms.

After she found out what a hamam was, she wondered why she ever bothered to get her hopes up. It wasn't 'like a spa' at all, it was a Turkish bath. It involved no clothes and no separation.

The palace grounds included a bathhouse and it had been reserved that day for just the two of them. After having to leave Medina behind at the entrance, she was led by another servant to a changing room. Her clothes were exchanged for nothing more than a towel that wrapped around her waist, and wooden sandals. Her chest was to be left completely bare.

She covered herself with her arms as best she could as they led her to the hot room. It was a round room covered entirely in marble. In the center was a large heated platform where the steam came from. All along the walls were sinks with marble benches. Sunlight streamed into the room in the shape of stars that had been cut into the domed ceiling. If it weren't for the circumstances, she'd otherwise be elated to be in such a beautiful place.

"You're late as usual."

Lambert was already there when she entered. He had been lying on his back on the giant stone slab but rolled over to his side when he heard her approaching. He too was wearing only a towel, but he wasn't at all unnerved about being near naked. He was dripping wet from the steam and his pale skin was tinged pink. Her eyes traveled his body and when their gaze met, she turned her head away and pulled her arms tighter around her chest.

He took offense to her shyness and remarked angrily, "if you're going to stare, at least meet my eyes."

She turned her head back, determined to just focus on his face.

"What kind of meeting is this," she yelled. "I thought this was a spa!"

"A spa?" He said the word with obvious disgust. "Don't be so shallow. This is an important ritual cleansing! So keep your voice down and show some respect!"

She took a seat directly across from him, the furthest she could get away from him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be disrespectful."

"Come closer so I can hear you," he replied in a softer but still demanding tone. "And drop your arms for goodness sake."

"Eh!?" Although she didn't want to be rude, that was asking too much.

He had little to no shame as he had gone back to lying down.

"I said not so loud. Although I agree this may be strange, mixed bathing is usually prohibited. But as the crown prince, I'm often busy with public affairs and ceremonial business, so I've graciously arranged to use my precious free time with you. You should be thankful for the privilege, not bawling with some feigned indignation. Besides," he added with a smirk, "it's not as if you're some virginal maiden who poor eyes need protecting."

"Just what do you mean by that!?"

Her every instinct was to slap him but she fought to push it down. It was a hard won battle none the less.

"I heard it from Melchiorre; you and Ivan left the palace the other day and didn't return until morning."

Her face turned red, more from embarrassment than from the heat of the steam.

"We got caught in the rain," she explained quickly. "On horseback, so there was nothing that could be done about it!"

"That's enough," he said. "I was only teasing you. Ivan explained the situation. And honestly, I'm not enough of a fool to believe to Melchiorre anyway."

She bit her lip and became quiet. In the back of her mind, she thought it was a shame he disregarded him so much. Melchiorre was pretty perceptive for an idiot. She tried not to perk up too much when she heard Ivan's name being spoken. It had been two days since she had seen him last. Was he really that busy?

She moved around to be a bit closer to him but kept her hands over her chest. She lay down on her stomach and only removed her hands when her breasts were safely tucked away under her. The warm marble pressed against her body and the steamy air was a dreamy kind of comfortable that lulled her to sleep. She had almost dozed off when an attendant tapped her on the shoulder.

"Is there a scent you like," he asked as he held a basket holding three bottles out to her.

Figuring this was the massage part, she happily sniffed them all and chose one that smelled warm and buttery. He nodded and she went back to resting her head in her arms. She was only slightly curious when she felt water being poured on her back. Her eyes darted about the room in disbelief when she felt it followed by a goopy mixture. She looked to Lambert as a last resort. He was sitting up and watching her confusion with a bemused expression as two attendants were lathering his body.

"This is a bath after all," he said in response to the look on her face.

"Whoa! Hey!"

She felt a pair of hands grab her towel and turned around. She tried to give her own attendant an intimidating look but her obvious discomfort made it a pitiful expression.

"I'm sorry. I'm just doing my job." He bowed his head apologetically, knowing that she was a foreigner and this was possibly her first time receiving such treatment. He granted her some reprieve by skipping over removing her towel and instead moved to washing the soles of her feet first.

"You'll have to sit up so they can wash you everywhere or else you won't get clean," Lambert teased. His mean-spirited humor hadn't died down at all.

"Can't you look away at least," she shouted at him.

"You should look at someone when you're talking to them," he argued.

"Then don't talk to me right now," she shot back.

Lambert huffed but at least he turned his head away. She closed her eyes as the attendant turned her this way and that to cover her with soap. He methodically washed her from limb to limb with his fingers pressed roughly into her skin as if he were trying to knead her muscles like dough. Medina hadn't been kidding when she said it would be rough. He started with her legs and arms and then moved onto her torso which included her front and back from neck to thigh. He moved her towel aside but didn't go near her private areas at all and was sympathetically brief when washing her front. Finally, he instructed her to lie down again and worked the lather in with a more casual massage.

Her discomfort dropped the more he kneaded her shoulders and lower back. Her smile bashfully returned as he worked her feet and calves. When it was done, she was doused in water again to rinse and then led to one of the sinks along the wall. All that work getting her comfortable was immediately undone when he began scrubbing her with what she could only compare to a scouring pad. She tensed and whimpered cries of pain through gritted teeth throughout the extreme exfoliating session. She only dropped her shoulders when he rinsed her again. The pain hadn't been for nothing as she got to see how much dirt and dead skin had been scrubbed off as the murky water washed down the drain.

Lastly there was the final lathering session. This time, he started with the top of her head and took his time shampooing her hair. The feeling of skilled hands massaging her scalp melted her completely. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch as she gripped the edge of the bench.

"Have some modesty, commoner! How can you feign to be so shy about showing your body, and yet now you carelessly make such a lewd expression for everyone to see?"

She opened her eyes and whipped her head around. The attendant grabbed her chin and turned her face forward but she had already seen him. Lambert was being washed at the basin just next to her with the most mocking smile on his face.

"What are you doing sitting so close to me!? Why are you even staring?"

"How many times do I have to tell you not to raise your voice," he expressed his scorn with a harrumph before offering an explanation. "I heard that sharing a bath is proof of closeness among friends. Seeing as how we got off on the wrong foot, you and I should seek to improve our relationship."

She had gotten soap in her eyes and was leaning back as the attendant poured cold water over her face. She wondered where the hell he had heard that, and just who would tell him something that stupid? If he was that gullible, who allowed him to make decisions on his own?

"Although I must admit, I don't understand your morals," he continued, his tone growing mischievous. "You act shy, but then to make that kind of face as you did..."

She tensed up but said nothing. Her glare denied his accusations but it wasn't enough for him. He was fishing for a reaction.

"If you find such a thing so favorable, than should I wash you instead?"

"No," she said quickly. "Why don't we start with you calling me by name instead of 'commoner'."

"I suppose," he answered, taking the suggestion into serious thought. "That would suffice since you don't have a title after all."

She let out an irritated sigh. Now that she knew how dense he was, she couldn't tell if he was still purposefully being mean or if he just genuinely didn't know any better.

"You can just call me Alex."

"Very well. Then instead of addressing me by title, you may call me... Mr. Lambert. That's informal enough. I'll take it as proof of our friendship through skin. Skin friendship. Skinship!"

She looked to her attendant and raised her brow to confirm if he had heard the same thing she had. He gave a small shrug as if to say that even he was confused, but he was also staying out of it. After another rinse with cold water, she was given a full towel to dry off with and then led to another room to rest.

This room was dimly lit and lined with beds, spaced apart by nightstands. She wasn't as sore as she thought she would be and sank onto the bed. A different attendant appeared a moment later and placed a tray with a cup of tea and small snacks by her bedside. Lambert arrived not too long after her, but thankfully he wasn't completely nude this time.

"I take it you heard my speech," he said as he lay down in the bed next to hers.

"I did," she mumbled. She had almost fallen asleep but as she woke herself up, remembered that she was supposed to be doing her job. "It was a bit... uh… high-strung."

"High-strung!?" He quickly sat up and stared at her with indignation.

"I mean you said everything perfectly. You must have practiced a lot."

"Of course I practiced." He wasn't less angry but he lay back down as he explained it to her. "Suppose I stuttered? Or forgot a cue? The reputation of the kingdom depends on its leaders. As such, it is the duty of the royal family not to show any imperfections."

"That sounds tiring."

She spoke quietly as she found herself awkwardly sympathizing with Melchiorre. If just being a part of the royal family meant looking perfect at every turn, than no wonder he ran away. She also now understood why Ivan had been so hard on her in the beginning. Maybe this pressure to be perfect was felt even by him.

"I don't expect you to understand," Lambert replied. "As the son of the king, it is a responsibility I was born with."

"I'm sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?"

She lifted her head to see him staring. He was just as confused as she had been earlier.

"It's just that you're right," she shrugged. "It is a very hard job and I can't imagine how stressful that must be for you."

He said nothing but nodded. He held his hands in his lap and had a faint blush in his cheeks. They stayed like that, sharing a room and sipping iced tea in silence. When it was time to go, she was led away to get dressed in private.

To her surprise, Lambert stood waiting for her at the entrance of the bath house. He said nothing but they walked back to the palace together. Medina, who had appeared to guide her back to her room, bowed her head to his highness and did her best not to let her curiosity show on her face.

Their arrival was met by a young woman who immediately threw herself between them. She was thin but her body had slight curves. Richly embroidered fabric draped her from head to toe. Her noble breeding was the most obvious in her unnaturally smooth skin and her shiny black hair that went down past her waist. She was like a songbird; small, graceful, and viciously territorial.

"Your highness," she sang as she draped herself over Lambert. "I was waiting for you."

She pouted coyly while slyly glaring at Alex. Lambert too played along with a polite smile and turned his back on her as if she were no longer visible.

"Lady Falitna. Please forgive me for making you wait. I'm of course honored that you came all this way to see me. As an apology, would you do me the pleasure of joining me for a cup of tea?"

"Of course, your highness," Falitna smiled triumphantly.

"I would absolutely love to," she said with unneeded emphasis.

Alex stood to the side, as awkward as anyone would be when confronted with two lovers. Lambert then addressed her with a stiffer formality then he had ever used before.

"We're done here. You may leave."

She turned without a word and was thankful to be dismissed. She and Medina continued on their way down the hall. She hadn't gotten far when suddenly, a hand grabbed her wrist and held tight.

"Wait a moment." Lambert stepped close and spoke in a low voice, "I'll make time for you tomorrow." Then he whispered slowly as if he were unsure of his own words, "I wouldn't be opposed to sharing a bath again."

She was at first going to tell him that it wasn't necessary but hearing the implications in his voice kept her quiet. He let her go and returned to Falitna, who was doing her best to stare her dead. Alex stood frozen but didn't have a moment to think on what had just happened. Medina linked her arm in hers and briskly walked her back to her room.