121: Wet & scented room

Wet & scented room

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Now alone with Dante amidst the creeper-entwined pillars and the backdrop of the Blackthorn rose, Anastasia's heart continued to race. She saw him take a deep breath, as if unconvinced by his grandmother's earlier words. His eyes roamed from her slender neck to her shoulders before finally settling on her hands.

Anastasia felt him pick up her hand, which she had coughed into, and turn it around as if examining it, but it was clean as she had wiped her palm against the side of her dress. 

"It doesn't look like you are visibly injured anywhere," Dante murmured. 

"Nothing happened to me; we were only talking," Anastasia reassured him, and she saw Dante give her a nod in response. 

He turned her hand again and brought it to his lips, planting a gentle kiss on her skin. The tender gesture caused her to lower her guard in his presence. As he brought her hand back down, he didn't let go of it and asked, "Did you bathe in the essence of jasmine today?" 

"I did…" Anastasia replied as they stared at each other. 

"The lovely fragrance suits you well," Dante approved, and Anastasia's heart almost calmed down until she heard him say, "But I don't believe jasmines bleed."

Never had Anastasia felt such intense pressure before, not even when her room was searched for the gold coin. But she told herself there was no reason for Dante to be suspicious. 

"Your loud heartbeat betrays you, calling out so sweetly that it makes it difficult not to wonder, Anastasia," Dante remarked, and he continued, "After our conversation is over, I will be sure to have a private conversation with my grandmother separately." 

He was onto her! Anastasia thought to herself. She responded, "I don't know where the blood scent came from; it must be from an iron railing I touched earlier. I didn't pay much attention to it." 

Dante's eyes narrowed subtly, and he pressed on, saying, "I will ask you one more time, and it will be the last: what is it that you and my grandmother are hiding?"

Anastasia firmly clung to her simple lie, stating without hesitation, "I didn't come here with the Mother Queen to harm the plant or her. We were just talking, and then you arrived… you are acting as if I have done something wrong, when I haven't."

A small chuckle escaped Dante's lips, and he briefly looked away from her as if finding humour and amusement in her statement. However, Anastasia didn't take it as a sign that the atmosphere had lightened. When he looked back at her, he remarked, "I wonder if you can see your reflection in my eyes, Anastasia, because if you could, you would see guilt written all over your face. But you are too preoccupied with thinking of what to say next."

When Dante's eyes shifted from her to look behind her, it took a second for Anastasia to realise his eyes were focused on the Blackthorn rose. She turned her head in the same direction and whispered, "I touched it out of curiosity." 

"It seems like you enjoy danger a little too much," Dante stated, moving closer to the plant and inspecting the wilted black rose. 

As Anastasia's gaze shifted towards the object of his attention, she noticed the petal, which had earlier regained its colour and life, had now returned to its previous withered state. The ache in her chest had made her realise the rose didn't want to be healed by her ability. Was she not supposed to involve herself in this curse? she questioned herself. 

"Do not come near this plant again," Dante calmly advised her as he examined the wilted rose closely. 

"I won't," Anastasia replied, realising that if the rose would cause her harm, it would be the first thing she would avoid. "I won't go near this plant again." 

Dante accepted her word without further questioning her intentions with the Blackthorn rose, but he wouldn't pass up the opportunity to make her reflect on what she did. He said, "It is troubling to think that you tried hiding something from me. Even though you have come clean now, I can't shake this nagging feeling in my subconsciousness that there is more to the story."

"I already told you what happened…" Anastasia observed Dante's intense gaze on her.

"Too late. Perhaps next time you consider withholding information, you will remember this," Dante stated, his grip on her hand tightening. 

Anastasia exhaled the air she had been holding and questioned him, "Isn't this… taking advantage of the situation?" 

Dante's eyes narrowed at her, and her lips tightened. He retorted, "And who created the situation? Do you truly want to understand what taking advantage of means, little rabbit?" 

"No," Anastasia quickly replied, not knowing if Dante would repeat what he did to her yesterday. It wasn't that she disliked it, as secretly, she had enjoyed the experience more than she would ever confess to him. 

As Dante began walking, he gently pulled her hand with his, and she obediently followed him through the corridors, leaving the poisonous flower behind. The servants in the corridor halted their tasks to respectfully bow their heads as they walked past them. 

"Where are we going?" Anastasia asked him, feeling her heart rate quicken for different reasons this time. 

"You will see," Dante replied without letting go of her hand. 

On the way, Anastasia couldn't help but wonder where the Mother Queen was and what she was doing. The older woman had told Dante that she liked her, and she took it as a good sign that she wouldn't be dying today. Her cheeks flushed when she saw Dante turn to look at her over his shoulder.

They continued to walk until they reached the entrance to the baths reserved for the royal family. Her eyes widened, and she quickly said, 

"I already took a bath." 

"I am aware," Dante replied as they entered the space adorned with white walls and flooring. 

Anastasia had never set foot in here because it had never been assigned to her to clean. It was undoubtedly one of the most extravagant baths she had ever laid eyes on. The bath featured a pool of water built at the centre of the room, surrounded by a low, enclosed wall for sitting. Both thin and wide candles were placed all around the room, casting a warm glow, while steam gracefully drifted up through the gaps in the floor. 

The three female servants in the room swiftly bowed without raising their heads, addressing him, "Your Highness." 

Dante didn't acknowledge their greetings. Instead, his red eyes scanned the room before he ordered, 

"Leave us alone." 

Without uttering a word, the servants promptly exited the room, not even glancing at Anastasia, who stood a step behind Dante. She distantly heard the door closing, leaving the place engulfed in silence, with only the gentle ripple of water breaking through the stillness. In an attempt to delay whatever was about to happen, she remarked, trying to fill the silence,

"This place looks absolutely heavenly…" She admired the ambience created by the soft candle glow and the captivating fragrance of flower oils that filled the room. 

"It does," Dante hummed in response. 

When Anastasia noticed Dante removing the coat he was wearing and setting it aside on the granite bench wall of the bath, her heart began to pound. His hands then reached for his buttons as their eyes locked, and he didn't break his gaze. 

"You want me to… bathe you?" Anastasia asked him. 

"There's something else that needs attention, which I doubt you've noticed," Dante remarked as he slipped out of his shirt, allowing it to fall to the floor. Anastasia wondered what he meant, and before she knew it, the two steps of distance between them reduced as he walked closer to her. 

"We aren't going to take a bath," Anastasia inquired, as if trying to understand. 

"No." 

Then what were they doing in the bath? He had removed his shirt, revealing his well-toned muscles, and she realised that the once prominent scar that marked his skin had now faded into a faint mark. Was it the demon's powers that were healing his body? He then said,

"Your dress needs to come off." 

He was definitely lying about not bathing! Anastasia thought to herself. And though the candle's glow concealed the heat rushing to her face, Dante's lips slightly curled.

Anastasia's thoughts raced in her mind, leaving her feeling slightly dizzy. Moreover, the room's serene atmosphere was starting to make her relax. And while she was lost in her thoughts, Dante's hand gently curled around her, reaching behind her to unfasten the cloth belt wrapped around her waist. 

Though he had seen her womanly curves and had also seen and touched her between her legs, Anastasia couldn't help but avert her eyes from what his hands were doing. He patiently untied the thin cotton laces which secured her outer jacket, and it was the first article of clothing to fall. 

"Are we going to take a dip in the bath?" Anastasia asked out of nervousness. 

"Later," Dante responded, his eyes focused on her dress, while she continued to speculate, her imagination causing her heart to race even faster. "It seems like you are anticipating something to happen, Anastasia. Care to share what's on your mind?" 

Anastasia's voice came out breathy as she replied, "I think they are better off staying in my head… rather than be let out." 

"Maybe if you share, we can explore the possibility of bringing them to life," Dante replied, his gaze shifting from her dress to meet her slightly dilated brown eyes. 

H—How could she respond to something like that? Anastasia couldn't blame the demon, because Dante had always been straightforward about his desires and what he could do to her. 

When Dante started lifting her outer layer from both sides, one inch at a time, she spoke up. 

"I don't possess a wide enough range of imagination for that," she said, quickly adding, "I don't mean that it needs to be fueled." 

"Raise your hands upwards," Dante instructed her, and Anastasia hesitantly complied. Soon, he removed the outer dress, leaving her in her long, sleeveless, off-white petticoat that hung loosely from her shoulders. 

When Anastasia instinctively crossed her hands against her chest, her bosom subtly pushed upwards, which didn't go unnoticed by Dante. The woman's naiveté was taunting him to no end, and he couldn't help but want to sprinkle water on her. He said,

"Take a seat here."

When Anastasia obliged and sat down, Dante positioned himself behind her. He pulled a few pins from her hair before weaving his fingers through it, then gathered it in one hand and expertly tied it into a bun.  1

A second later, he began to unbutton the back of her petticoat. She softly gulped, nervously drawing her hands to her chest, and she heard him say, 

"Just as I thought, you have neglected them." 

"Huh?" Anastasia turned to the side and saw Dante's hand reaching for the cart filled with various bath oils and other things she had never seen before. Using his foot, he pulled over a small stool and positioned it behind her before taking a seat. 

"You've neglected the whip marks on your back, and if left unattended, they will likely leave scars," Dante stated as he dipped his hand into a small bowl of oil.

That was what he had in mind all along? Anastasia asked herself. Soon, a droplet of oil trickled onto her back, which slid slowly down her skin, only to be picked up by his finger. She felt his warm hands on her back, gently sliding back and forth over her skin. Her toes curled on the wet floor. She would have never guessed that this was why he brought her here. She kept her hands close to her chest to prevent the petticoat from falling. 

"Take better care of yourself. Your life belongs to me now since I pulled you out of the sea," Anastasia heard Dante say, and she turned her head to the side once more. 

Dante's hands moved with a gentle yet sensual touch, working on each muscle one at a time. As he skilfully massaged her, he observed her previously stiff shoulders relaxing. His fingertips pressed into her shoulders, even though she had never been injured there before. 

"It happened many days ago… which is why I didn't pay attention to it," Anastasia murmured. "I didn't have help then."

"You could have come to me," Dante stated. 

Yes, because asking a prince to apply oil to her back was such a common occurrence, Anastasia sarcastically thought to herself. Her back straightened as his hands moved downward and pressed on her lower back. When she spoke next, her words came out barely above a whisper, "Is this—Are you massaging me?" Despite feeling embarrassed about what happened yesterday, it seemed that all the punishments he had in mind were things she enjoyed. 

"You aren't a wall that is fine with a single coat of paint. You are a flower that needs to be soaked," Dante said, causing Anastasia's eyes to widen at the flower reference. 

"I, thank you," Anastasia murmured, biting her bottom lip. It felt as if the old prince, who used to take care of her, had resurfaced, and somewhere within her, guilt ate at her. Maybe she could return the favour by massaging his back, she thought to herself. 

"You appear a little breathless. Are you doing well?" Dante lightly teased her, noticing Anastasia's back arch when he ran his finger down her spine. 

"I am fine. I think you have helped me enough," Anastasia quickly replied, hastily standing up only to realise the back buttons of her petticoat were still open. 

Dante watched her, his eyes akin to those of a patient vulture waiting for its prey. His eyes subtly narrowed because he hadn't forgotten what he had said to her on the forbidden side of the palace. 

"Do you want me to help you?"

"We weren't done with your back, Anastasia," Dante interrupted her while placing the bowl back in the cart. He stood up from the stool and shifted to where she had been sitting. "Now that the layers of your dress won't be in the way, why don't we attend to what I promised?" 

Anastasia, whose back had been facing him, felt her heart skip a beat as she slowly turned to meet his gaze. The once gentle atmosphere had transformed into something that jolted her wide awake, and she heard him say, 

"Come here, little rabbit. On my lap." 

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