Page 36 of Monster's Bride
We made our truce, and we have to stick to it.
“I won’t pry,” Lizette says as she bends to collect the strips of white fabric from the floor. “Unless you’re being hurt, it’s none of my business.”
Aside from a few aches and muscle fatigue, I’m physically fine. Emotionally, a little less so, but I’ll be all right once I nurse my sore feelings. Next time, I’ll know what to expect, and when Nor disappears without a word, I’ll avoid the sinking feeling of disappointment that’s tugging my shoulders down like an invisible weight.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for the wedding,” Lizette changes the subject. “I was getting a crash course on Ulleh servitude and working in the kitchen.”
“I wish you could have been there,” I sigh, replaying the night in my mind. “It would have been easier, and probably more fun.”
“Why don’t you tell me about it while we get you bathed and dressed?” she asks, gesturing to a tall wooden wardrobe. It’s positioned between two windows draped with pink curtains, with stars and swirls carved into the doors.
Of all the rooms I’ve seen so far, my room is the brightest. The beige walls are a stark contrast to the darkness coating the rest of the castle, and a gold chandelier overhead casts warm light across the space. Aside from the four-poster and wardrobe, there’s a low, white lounge sofa, a vanity topped with a massive oval mirror, and a handful of mismatched side tables situated through the room.
Although it looks nothing like my room in Hyatt, it’s surprisingly homey.
“Sure,” I answer, getting to my feet and stretching my weak limbs.
She pulls open the door to the wardrobe and I run my hand along the dresses hanging there. All mine, all familiar. The earthy smells of home still cling to them, but I know they’ll lose that bit of nostalgia over time.
Reluctant to drag around another heavy dress with dozens of layers, I settle for a simple blue gown with ruffles across the chest that trail down one side of the skirt. Like all my dresses, it has a corset back and shimmers when the light hits it just right.
“Going for comfort, I see,” Lizette says, pulling it from the rack and draping it over the end of the bed.
“Definitely. If I could go barefoot today, I would.” I peer down at my feet, angry blisters dancing across the tops and around my heels.
Lizette follows my line of sight and tsks her tongue. “That looks painful. I’ll get a salve mixed up while you’re in the bath.”
“You’re amazing,” I assure her, more thankful than I can put into words. “I want to hug you so badly, but I smell disgusting.”
Not to mention I’m probably still covered in minotaur cum.
“I can wait.” She grins and points to a door in the corner. “Everything’s ready for you in there.”
I thank her and hurry my way across the room, eager to soak into some hot water and rinse off the reminders of last night. If I’m lucky, some of the memories will wash down the drain too, and I’ll be less inclined to play through the events in my mind all day. That is, until I see Nor and the thoughts come creeping back.
With a white marble floor and walls, the brightness of the bathroom threatens to blind me. A minotaur-sized clawfoot tub stands in the middle of the floor and pale cabinets run the length of both walls, floral paintings spaced evenly above them. It’s a princess’s dream washroom.
After experimenting with the knobs and levers on the tub, I finally manage to fill the porcelain pool with enough hot suds to completely disappear in, and I ease my way into the water. Heat scorches the blisters on my feet, but it’s a welcome relief for the rest of my body, and I sink down to my chin as I let the warmth work its magic on my muscles.
My eyes close and I drift into daydreams, images coming and going freely. I don’t focus on any one thought for too long, afraid it’ll stir up feelings I’ve already swallowed down. I soak until Lizette knocks on the door to hurry me up.
“You’re going to miss breakfast if you take much longer,” she pipes.
I’m almost tempted to skip the meal to enjoy my bath, but my stomach rumbles angrily at the thought.
“I’m coming,” I groan, reaching for a cloth to quickly scrub my body.
I’m out and wrapped in a towel after a few minutes, and Lizette ushers me out to my room.
“Your first meal with the royal family, and you’re going to be fashionably late,” she nags as she helps me into the blue dress. Her fingers work at lightning speed, lacing the corset while leaving me a little room to breathe. She tackles my hair after, pulling the damp strands into a tight bun.
“Jewelry or no jewelry?” she asks.
I give her a bewildered look. Is jewelry really necessary for breakfast? I’ve already made my first impression on the family members, and if I didn’t impress them at the wedding, the odds of gaining favor over a meal seem slim. “No.”
She speeds through the lightest layer of makeup she can manage and helps me apply the salve to my feet before hurrying me out the door.
“I’ve never seen you so flustered,” I admit as we stroll down the corridor side by side.