Page 53 of The Barbarian King's Assassin (Magic and Kings 1)
“If you say so.” I didn’t like his enigmatic smirk.
“I’ll sleep there.” I pointed to the bottom of the spiral. If someone climbed to the top and got in through the large windows and the wooden hatch, they’d have to make it past me.
“You’ll sleep in the bed,” he insisted.
“No.”
“You’re not sleeping on the floor.”
“Then order up a cot.”
“Wouldn’t that ruin the image we’re portraying?”
I gnashed my teeth. “I don’t want to sleep with you.”
“Are you scared?” he drawled. “Perhaps you don’t think you can resist me.”
“I’m starting to rethink killing you.”
“Is this your way of warning me that you might join forces with another assassin?”
As if I’d share the glory. I didn’t tell him that, though. “Pay me more if you’re worried.”
“I’ll give you anything you want.”
For some reason the words sent a shiver down my spine.
“Speaking of wants, do you have messenger birds? I’d like to contact”—So many names I’d given Jrijori over the years, but the one most likely to give me what I wanted?—“my father. He’ll want to know what’s happened.”
“Your father, the assassin. Is he really related to you?”
“What do you think?”
“That he’d better not be a pedo, seeing as how he acquired you at a young age.”
I laughed. “Far from it. That’s the one type of person Jrijori kills for free. He saved me from death and then paid me more attention than my real father ever did.”
“Why does he need a second message? Worried the first one you sent didn’t make it?”
“You intercepted it?” Good thing I’d kept it vague.Change of job. Don’t worry. More soon.
“Just making you aware I knew of it.”
“What else do you know?”
“That you smell good.” A surprising admission from him.
“Not really. Didn’t you say something about a bath?”
“Shower actually.” He showed me the closed-off chamber with the lever to open the water sluice. I almost yelled when it hit, more in surprise at the pressure. It wasn’t cold, nor too hot, but rather a tepid warmth from the sun beating on the rain collector built into the roof.
I emerged damp and wrapped in a large linen towel. Konstantin rose from his bed, wearing only his breeches. I’d better get used to seeing him half-dressed if we’d be sharing a room.
I said nothing as he passed me and entered the shower cubicle. Getting rid of those pants. Water sluicing down that hard body.
I suddenly felt dirty and in need of another shower.
Instead, I dressed, but not in breeches and a shirt. Not for the first meal in this new place as the king’s mistress. I wore a blasted dress, delivered while he was in the shower, along with a comb and mirror. Even slippers for my feet.