Page 106 of Shadow Throne King

As they undressed him, plumes of ash and dust floated into the air with each layer they removed. When he was fully naked, three servants led him into the shower room. I started to follow, then hesitated.

I pulled at my clothes, my hands getting gritty, palms even more filthy when I finally struggled out of my coat. A servant bowed in front of me before I could begin the grimy chore of removing my shirt. Helplessly, I held out my arms and let him gently loosen the high strips of cloth that acted as a belt to get it free. Then my boots and pants.

With each layer, I felt even more exhausted. Weariness landed on my shoulders heavily, nearly fixing me in place. Only the sound of the water splashing on tiles prompted me to move once I was freed of my clothes.

I followed Tallu into the shower room, the white stone stained gray and black as Tallu leaned back, letting the water rinse the filth out of his hair. He opened his eyes, catching sight of me. His chest expanded in a deep gasp.

Rivulets of water trailed down from his neck to chest, washing away blood and sweat and grime. A servant used a cloth to rub the granules of sand into his skin, the suds trailing down his muscled chest to his flat stomach, past his cock to his legs. His thighs jumped and trembled with the effort of standing. Two servants exchanged a glance, but they might as well have had their own tongues cut out. They said nothing.

I turned my head without looking away from Tallu.

“His Imperial Majesty will need food before his bath,” I said.

I wondered how close he was to passing out. His lips were pale, clenched together, and he turned his face into the spray, his chest laboring with breath.

When his servants were finally satisfied that he was clean, they helped him out of the shower, and I stepped in. The water felt incredible, pounding down on my skin. I let it rinse over me at first, washing away as much as it could, opening my eyes to find that the water had caked the ash onto my skin.

One of my servants reached out with a washcloth, hesitantly, and I extended my arm, letting him begin scrubbing at the tips of my fingers and working up my arm, persistent and thorough. I closed my eyes when he came to my face, working under my jaw and up my cheekbones.

It was relaxing, and after the day we had had, I nearly fell asleep with the water pounding on my skin, the warmth loosening the tension that had pulled my back tight. When he finished washing me, the servant murmured that he was going to start on my hair.

There was a moment of hesitation, and then I agreed, closing my eyes and turning my face into the water again. Dexterous fingers loosened my braids, starting at the bottom and gently untangling the plaited hair.

Wet, it fell halfway down my back, and the fingers returned to my scalp, gently massaging, loosening all of the thick grime from our eventful journeys in and out of Krustau. The touch felt intimate, and I shifted uncomfortably, opening my eyes to see which of the servants dared to touch the emperor’s consort with such familiarity.

Tallu stared back at me, his russet gaze fixed on his work.

“Hold still,” he coaxed.

I turned back to the spray and let him work soap through the strands, combing them with his fingers first, then with a bone brush when the strands were finally clean. The servants stared, and I didn’t need Lerolian to tell me that they were going to be whispering of this throughout the palace.

“There,” Tallu said.

I reached forward, turning off the water and stepping out, dripping on the tile floor. Tallu was wearing a thick robe, his hair damp and skin rosy. A servant rushed forward, drying me first with a towel and then presenting me with my own robe.

I couldn’t look away from Tallu, fixed on his hungry gaze.

“Is His Imperial Majesty’s food ready?” I asked.

“Yes, Your Highness,” one of the servants murmured.

“Shall we eat, my lord?” I asked. “Because the kind of hunger I see in your eyes needs fuel to satisfy.”

Tallu’s lips twisted up, and he nodded. A massive spread of food had been set on one of the tables in his bedroom, and Tallu sat down too heavily on the longest of the couches. I watched him for just a split-second, seeing the weakness that he would never want to show anyone else.

“Get out,” I ordered the servants, hearing myself sound exactly like an imperial.

The room froze, and one of the higher ranked servants, his clothes a darker yellow to indicate his status, cleared his throat. “Your Highness, we are here to serve?—”

I turned to him, knowing that my gaze blazed with anger. “Get out. All of you.”

The servant drew himself up, his chin going high, his jaw clenching, and then Tallu spoke.

“Do as my husband says.” There was only one Dog in the room with us, their numbers too thin to guard him with the usual four. Tallu caught his eye. “Get them out of here and then guard the door. From the outside.”

The frozen moment went on too long, but then the lower ranked servants began to move, rushing to the door. They would not risk their positions by angering the emperor. The Dog approached the servant who had hesitated, and he looked down, leaving quickly.

The door shut behind the Dog with a pronounced click, and I sank to the floor in front of Tallu, looking up at him.