Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
I bite back a smile at his blustering. He gets so prickly when he worries about me. "A bath sounds lovely. Good idea."
Azar guides me toward the room that's been set up as a bathing chamber. It's separate from the bathrooms, close to the kitchens so the bathtub can be drained easily and heated water carried in quickly. The moment we enter the room, a bell clangs and a servant pops in, nodding at us to let us know she's working on the water. I give her a tired smile and kick off my boots. The moment I do, Azar is at my back, undoing the buttons on my soiled dress. "Tell me who vomited on you," he says. "Do I need to punish them?"
I roll my eyes, chuckling. "It was a sick person. That's what they do. It's not like they could help it."
"And are there many sick today?"
"Too many." I sigh heavily. "We need to talk about food."
"I withhold nothing from anyone," Azar says, sliding my dress off once it's unfastened. "They know how to get food. All they have to do is ask and we will make room for them in one of the fort's improvement programs."
"Some people are too proud to ask." I shiver, crossing my arms over my breasts as one of the servants comes in with a bucket of steaming water. "And some don't like you," I point out to my lover as the servant turns to leave. "Not everyone wants to wait on you hand and foot."
"Then they do not want to eat that badly," he says in a firm voice. "They accept my shelter but will do nothing to help make this place better for all? Let them starve, then."
I shoot him a look. "Azar, we've talked about this."
He's silent as the servant returns with cool water, and once it's poured into the tub, I dip a toe in. Perfect—not too hot, not too cold. I slip into the old-fashioned, claw-footed tub and Azar moves to the stool at my side. He takes a clip and pins my hair up for me, since it’s not wash day. I cast him a grateful look and lean back in the tub as he picks up the soap. He knows I'm tired when I get back late, and fusses over me as if I'm a precious thing, and I eat it up. It's nice to have someone take care of me, and I know I'm privileged. We have servants here, a roof over our heads, and food to eat. Maybe it's guilt that makes me push to feed those in the fort that won't comply with Azar's demands.
As I settle in and Azar washes my limbs with scented soap, he finally speaks again. "I don't like the thought of them taking advantage of your kindness."
"You think everyone takes advantage of my kindness."
"Because they do."
"They do not." I lift a hand from the water to mock-swat at him. He ignores my irritation and grabs my hand, washing it with intense concentration. "You're just mad because not everyone thinks you're a genius just yet. Give them time to get used to how things are now. You can't overturn years and years of hand-to-mouth living overnight."
Azar grunts, sliding the cloth up my arm and then massaging my shoulder. It feels so good that I close my eyes, drifting away as he cares for me. "We do not ask for unreasonable things, my consort. We simply ask for them to participate in taking care of the fort that they live in. I do not think that is too much." He sounds grouchy. "They eat my food, use up my medical supplies, and keep my generous, beautiful mate away from me. I don't like it."
I smile as I lean back in the water and he runs the washcloth over my front. "And here we come to the heart of the matter. You were lonely today, weren't you?"
"I am busy," he grumps. "I had interruptions all day long, people asking about the most foolish things. Does no one think for themselves in this place? Next I will have to tell them how to wipe their asses."
Yeah. He missed me. I don't point out that the ones that are thinking for themselves are part of the problem, that they're the ones not falling in line with his grand vision. Instead, I let him wash the leg I lift out of the water, and open an eye to gaze at him. He's concentrating so fully on cleaning me that his eyes aren't even swirling the darker amber hue that means he's turned on. I'm tempted to change that, to slide a hand between my thighs and idly touch myself, but I'm so damned tired that even that small motion seems like effort. "Tomorrow, when I have two brain cells to rub together, can we talk about food stores? I think we should cut back on supplies, or find a way to stretch them to get through the winter. Maybe send more teams out hunting."