The Kings Personal Joker (boyxboy)

Chapter Forty Nine

I rose from the water and rubbed the residual water from my eyes.

I hadn't brought any soap with me, though the water should do for today as long as I combed my hair sufficiently. What I ought to have brought was more paint. I promised myself that from now on I would bring a little bar of the paint along with me wherever I went, because clearly I needed it.

Staring into my reflection I could see that it was almost all gone, even the day before the layer had been thin, but had he seen, or rather noticed, where I came from because of it I would have seen the effects of such a thing immediately. He would have reacted, somehow.

It occurred to me now that that strange little boy from before hadn't mentioned anything either.

I sighed, dragging the wooden bucket from outside of the bath towards me before dunking it in the water and pouring the water over my head, feeling my hair flatten against my skin, the grime of the night before falling away.

My hair was getting long, I had been meaning to cut it... I twirling the wet strands in my fingers, perhaps it would be worth asking a friend to cut it for me?

I sat down on the bench under the water, even under the water sitting set off a little twinge of pain that made my face red acknowledging.

Even as I scrubbed my body the memory of those hands, of the movements of the night before swelled inside my brain so that it because almost impossible to worry about the fact that I was, for the first time in a long time, practically maskless in public.

And yet feeling the pressure where his hands had held my wrists in his cruel grip made my heart race more. Seeing the thin red lines on my chest felt like evidence of some kind of sin spelled out for all to see. It was almost impossible to escape the memory, it wondered how long that would last, how long I would remember the feeling and see the shadows of that night on my skin.

The bruises on my wrists seemed to form the fingerprints of his hand, and some strange part of me worried that people would somehow recognise them as his, that this was the mark of their King...

I saw Natham before I heard him and almost jumped out of my skin, the water around me shivering as I shook a little in surprise, wide-eyed shock written all over my face.

He looked to be surprised too. Perhaps sitting as still as I had been we had both managed to surprise each other.

"Sorry!" He laughed nervously, looking away as he looked around for another bath. "I didn't mean to intrude..."

I shook my head quickly. "No, no, not at all. You are welcome to join me." I welcomed him, regretting the words almost immediately after expressing them.

He grinned at me, looking relieved.

"Only I've been told to wash and dress presentably before my Lord allows me back." He gestured to his attire and the half of his head that was brushed with soil, his right leg caked in mud as though he might have stepped in a rather muddy puddle.

I laughed. "What happened to you, you look rather more messy than one is used to in the morning!"

He laughed. "Apparently Gerta does not like me."

Upon my confused expression he elaborated. "The horse, Gerta, she belongs to the Bode stables. Only she has been a little sore lately, some sort of condition has been slowly spreading on her back. It won't be long now before it becomes a problem. I was only brushing her mane so that she looked a little nicer for his morning ride when I must have nicked her where she is sore and she kicked me with such force that I landed in a pile of muck." He made a face. "Not sure what the contents of that pile were but I'm sure it gave Gerta a good laugh to see me half brown."