Sera finishes up applying a poultice on the last shallow cut.

Gathering together the discarded bandages and her bag of equipment, she prepares to leave. Night had fallen. While Sera was focused on fixing up Lucien, someone had come in and left several lamps around the room, lending a warm glow to the otherwise cold and desolate chamber. 

By adding heated rocks into the water, the porcelain bath retained its heat. The steam rising from the surface of the water, in combination with the flickering illuminations, merged together into a hazy, sultry filter enveloping the tense undertone in the atmosphere of the room.

"If you will excuse me, your majesty" Sera crosses her fingers behind her back as she curtseys, lifting up one side of her skirt. Fingers were crossed whether Lucien would make her stay and bathe him. Maybe he might've forgotten after the briefing and getting his wounds sewed up and such. 

The warm light of the lamps gently caress his long hair, making it look as if it were a living flame.

He blinks. "Didn't Hilda tell you about the night duties of the King's maid?"

Sera decides to play dumb.

"I'm not sure what you mean. Would you like me to bring you some tea?"

"I am your King, but I am also injured. As a healer, don't you feel responsible for me?"

Was that a slight pouting undertone she hears from him? It's almost like he was begging her to stay, but not sure how to say it.

"How am I supposed to bathe when I'm like this?"

When he stood there, all alone, with the bandages and poultices on him, he did look somewhat pitiful. His big shoulders were hunched over. It worked like a charm. Sera did feel guilty. 

If anyone else were to see this sight, they would be in shock. Their King, so stoic and mighty, was acting pitiable for a maid to bathe him.

"Yes, m'lord..." Sera gives in.

"If it's all right with you, may I add one condition." she adds.

"All right." He quickly agrees.

She quickly grabs one of the leftover clean and white bandages. Turning to face away from him, she reaches and pulls it to cover her eyes.

"I'll bathe you blindfolded. Please tell me once you've entered the bath"

Long silence.

"Sire?"

"Yes, alright."

Clothes rustle, and the belt clinks as it's unbuckled and falls to the floor.

Sera wasn't sure if this was the best idea, but it was better than seeing him naked. He was a soon-to-be-married man. She was only a maid doing her duty. Just looking at his upper body was enough to make the blood rush to her head. There was no need to see....everything....

A soft splashing sound, and a deep exhale. In her mind's eye, Sera could only picture what was happening. Perhaps a droplet of water would run down Lucien's strongly corded neck..down, over one meaty pectoral..gliding on his darkly tanned skin...Up and down the defined ridges of his abdomen, and even lower past that.....

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. Her over-active imagination worked all too well to show her what her eyes couldn't see.

Gritting her teeth, she mentally slaps herself to focus. Imagine Lucien was a really big, dog. Maybe like the big red dog from that children's book. That might work. Dogs didn't radiate a tantalizing, delicious energy like Lucien did.

Feeling her way to the small table set up next to the bath which had the soap bottle and towels, she uncorks, one and sniffs. Smells about right. It has the same, fragrant tea-like smell that Lucien always has on.

Sera locates Lucien by reaching out and finding a warm shoulder. She pours the soap into her hand, runs the back of her hand up his neck to find his head, and starts scrubbing. Repeat the same back and forth motion. Lucien slowly tilts his head back, entrusting himself into her hands. Her fingers massage into his scalp. He's a cute, lovable dog, she tells herself.  A big, red, dog.

Lucien's long hair helps keep her grounded. The soap works up into a thick lather that settles into his hair, as the sound of his hair being scrubbed sounds almost exactly like washing a dog. It fits with the illusion she's trying to delude herself with.

His hair being so thick, it's quite a workout with the added weight of it being wet. 

Rinsing him once more, his hair is done. 

Now for the hard part. Sera gulps.

She takes the soap bottle again and pours some more into her palm.

The illusion was harder to keep up now. You can't pretend you're washing a dog when what you feel under your palm is clearly warm, pliable skin. Hair, yes, you can pretend like it was fur, but for the rest of the body, not so much.

This was a trial. All she could do was give her best, and try to overcome.

Sera can almost feel her synapses firing away as her brain works overtime to keep the image of a fluffy, harmless dog plastered to the forefront of her mind.

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What Sera didn't know, was how provocative a scene the two of them made.

As the great author, Mark Twain once wrote: "There is a charm about the forbidden that makes it unspeakably desirable." This was it. The vision of a forbidden world, so sinfully enthralling..

Fully dressed, a strikingly beautiful girl bathes a man, ethereal in his savage beauty, submerged, completely naked in the tub. 

Her petite figure, its curves defined in a dark green dress, the fine material appearing almost black as it became wet. Honey-sweet brown hair damp, clings to the heavy fabric that swells over her chest. The bright white strip of fabric that covered her eyes shining eyes. She has forbidden herself from the sight before her. It was too dangerous. There was no telling what would happen if she removed the blindfold. It could bring her to heaven, or send her crashing down into hell.

Her plump, rosebud pink lips quiver below the blindfold. The man, silent and still like a statue. Steam that rises across the whole scene, as the delicate white porcelain of the bath contrasts with one arm that lazily hangs over the side of the tub, muscles giving definition under tan skin. 

The scene looked like a depiction  one would find in the ruins of an old, old temple. Of a forgotten battle god, turned to stone, and the priestess who ministered to him. Her careful movements, rubbing in the soap in small circular movements, seemed almost worshipful. Her focus was on cleansing him. In return, the only thing the man did was look. He never moved a muscle, not even a twitch. He barely even breathed. His eyes stayed on her the entire time. His very being was focused on each of her movements.

Somehow, she does it. Sera's carefully washed every part of Lucien except his-

"Ahem" 

She clears her throat.

"I'm sure you can do your-" she waves downward

"-important parts by yourself."

Sera gathers her things and runs away.

Lucien knocks his head against the lip of the tub as he gazes up at the ceiling. He knew that frightened little rabbits like her needed time to catch.