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And so he made for the bathing chamber, hoping to scrub the filth and the guilt from his skin.

The bathing room was nearly the same size as the sleeping quarters. Pristine marble tiles lined the entire space. An elaborate claw-footed tub sat in the centre, with a stupidly wide vanity and mirrors framed with gold filigree set against one of the walls. Hot water steamed in pails by the tub, and a trolley stacked with a range of toiletries had been placed nearby. The scent of lavender filled the air; Wilder spotted a small bowl of oil burning over a candle in the far corner. Plush towels and robes hung from gold hooks on one side of the room, a cart stocked with premium liquor beneath. Wilder even spotted his favourite wine from Marise’s cellar, his mouth watering at the sight.

No expense had been spared.

And Wilder wondered who the king was trying to impress more: him or Thea.

Slowly, he started peeling off his travel-worn and blood-stained clothes, grimacing at the stiffness in his shoulders. Those fucking mercenaries had certainly got a few blows in while he was unconscious, the cowards.

‘Wilder?’ Thea’s voice sounded at the door.

‘What is it?’ he replied.

The door opened a crack and she peered in, her gaze instantly heating as it fell upon his bare torso.

‘I… Uh… Is there a medical kit in there?’

Without a word, Wilder opened the door fully and pulled her inside, sitting her on the edge of the great tub and gently rolling up her sleeve, taking her injured arm to examine it.

It was in a state. Her stitches had been completely torn, and the edges of the wound were ragged, bloody and covered in grime.

‘You should have had this tended to right away.’

‘I was a little busy,’ Thea huffed.

Wilder ignored this and fetched a fresh pail of warm water and a clean cloth. He knelt at her side, ignoring how Thea’s pupils dilated at the sight, and started to clean the wound. He was as gentle as possible, dragging the warm rag across her skin, rinsing the cloth and doing the same again until the layer of dirt was gone.

Thea seemed to be holding her breath. ‘I thought I was meant to do this myself?’ she said.

Wilder rummaged for a needle and thread in one of the drawers, finding a small medical pack and returning to Thea’s side. ‘Not this time,’ he replied, threading the needle. ‘It’ll be worse this time…’

Thea clenched her jaw, but gave him a nod.

Wilder made quick work of the wound, knowing how tender it would already be, knowing the sharp sting and pull of the needle was so much worse when stitches had already been torn.

Thea didn’t make a sound. She simply sat on the edge of the tub, accepting his ministrations with gritted teeth. He hated hurting her, hated that there was little he could do to numb the pain.

When he at last tied off the end of the thread, she glanced down at the line of sutures. ‘Let’s hope the second time’s the charm…’ she murmured.

Wilder didn’t know if he was overanalysing, but her words seemed loaded with a different meaning. He cleared his throat. ‘You should bathe, then we can bandage it up properly.’

Not waiting for her response, he started to pour pails of hot water into the tub, checking the temperature as the water level increased.

‘What about you?’ Thea asked, watching him tentatively.

‘There’s enough water for two baths.’

‘But it will get cold.’

Wilder shrugged. ‘Still warmer than a river. I’ll be fine.’

Thea opened her mouth to argue, but Wilder simply raised a brow. She sighed. ‘Thank you.’

He made to leave, to give her privacy —

‘Wilder?’ Thea said, still seated on the edge of the tub. ‘I think I might need your help…’ She gestured to her clothes. ‘It’s nothing you haven’t seen before…’

Wilder’s heart stuttered. Of all the ways he’d imagined undressing Althea Zoltaire again, this hadn’t been at the top of the list. But she needed him.