“Begging your pardon, my Lady,” the girl said, panting—clearly she had run all the way from the Bathing Grotto. “But the Duchess says hurry up quick—His Majesty is due to arrive at any time and you don’t want to offend him by being late!”
“All right—we’re coming right now,” Elli promised. “Can you show us the way to the Bathing Grotto?”
“Right this way, my Lady and hurry, please!” the girl gasped and started off at a trot down the long hallway, which forced Elli and Roke to follow as quickly as they could.
It’s just as well she came when she did! Elli thought as they hurried after the servant girl. Roke and I were about to start something that would have been extremely hard to stop!
She wished again that she wasn’t so hot blooded and that the cool, dispassionate grace of a priestess came more naturally to her. The very minute she got back to the Mother Ship she was going to sip from the cup of Mortem Amore so she could be rid of her carnal desires forever!
But for now she was stuck with them, so she would just have to try harder to keep control of herself.
Elli just hoped that was possible. She had never felt so strongly drawn to anyone as she was the big half-Havoc/half-Kindred warrior and it was getting harder and harder to stop herself from acting on her desire for him.
Thirty-One
The Bathing Grotto was an underground cave with a high, arched ceiling, lit by floating lamp-glows which cast a golden light over the shimmering surface of the hundreds of little pools that dotted the smooth stone floor.
Each pool was filled with the same pale, milky-blue water which had run through the stream in the Supper room the night before. And from each pool came a gentle cloud of steam, indicating that they were substantially warmer than the stream.
“Oh, there you are! We were worried you’d gotten lost!” the Duke beckoned them over to one of the steaming pools where he and the Duchess were relaxing. “Look—we saved you the pool next to ours,” he added, indicating the pool beside the one he and the Duchess were occupying.
All the pools were the same size—around five feet in diameter—and all of them surrounded a much larger pool in the center of the Grotto, which was at least three times as large as the smaller ones.
“Hurry and get in,” the Duchess said to Elli. “We had to fight off the Vanderbeaks and the Chinstraps to keep that pool for you, and the Crown Prince will be here at any moment!”
“Of course, sorry!” Elli said. Taking a deep breath for courage, she slipped out of her robe, baring herself to the scrutiny of the Tenebrian nobles around her—not to mention Roke, who was watching with interest. Keeping her chin high, she laid the robe to one side of the pool and slipped into the steaming water, catching her breath at its warmth.
“Feels lovely, doesn’t it?” the Duchess purred, as she leaned back against the Duke’s narrow chest. To Elli’s relief, she was wearing the same kind of bathing costume Elli was. Though her pale white nipples didn’t stick out nearly so much between the white fronds of her suit as Elli’s pink peaks did.
“It’s really nice,” Elli said, submerging herself up to her neck. At least the water was opaque, she thought, so no one could see her mostly naked body through its milky blue depths.
“Reminds me of a bathing pool on one of the Kindred ships,” Roke said, also discarding his robe and slipping in beside Elli. He looked at the Duke. “Will we be doing any, er, Mirroring again tonight?”
“Of course, old boy!” the Duke said heartily. “Whenever the Crown Prince is the center of attention, his motions must be mirrored! It is our only way to reflect His Majesty’s greatness!”
“Of course,” Roke echoed dryly. “That makes perfect sense.”
Elli felt her heart rise into her throat and start thumping. What sort of things would they be required to do tonight? And why did she feel such a mixture of anticipation and desire at the thought, when she knew that what she ought to feel was fear and shame about the no-doubt erotic actions they would have to engage in?
At that moment, the Crown Prince entered the Bathing Grotto, draped in a golden bathrobe. He was already attended by one of the Court Ladies—presumably she had been chosen ahead of time—and he strolled to the large, steaming pool in the center of the grotto and began to disrobe.
He took off his robe in a leisurely manner, as though to give everyone time to admire his physique, which they certainly seemed to, since the whole Court murmured “Ooos” and “Ahhs” as the Crown Prince allowed the golden bathrobe to slide slowly down his narrow shoulders and fall to the floor.