He decided to ignore his grumbling stomach and clean himself up first. His skin was sticky to the touch through the layers of dried sweat, grime, blood, and mud. Whatever food he’d hold with his hands would be rendered inedible anyway, he thought. It’s a birthday celebration anyway. I should at least be clean if I don’t want to disrespect the twins. After all, Cadmun warned me that I’ll be treated the same.

He shuddered at the thought of being disciplined by Cadmun again. He found a bucket of water near one of the slaves' tents. The rags inside had been used before, probably by the other miners, and the cold water was nasty. Still, this would have to do. He picked the bucket up and looked for a quiet place somewhere away from the camp to clean himself. He found a rock surrounded by bushes where he could sit. The joyful conversations coming from the fireplace could still be heard in the distance, but as he took a look around, he saw no one else. He stripped the piece of tent from his waist and laid it on the rock from the inside out. The part on the inside at least looks cleaner.

He sat on the rock, placed the bucket of water beside him, and got to work. Scrubbing his arms and legs with the cold water was fine, but when he got to other areas on his body, the temperature of the water became a problem. He tried putting off the cleaning of his torso, back, and… waist until last by cleaning his face first. However, when he scooped the water with his hands and held it close to his nose, he was put off by the smell. Maybe I shouldn’t clean my wounds with this.

Finally, he gave in and plunged the rag into the water. He’d start with his back first, or at least he tried to convince himself that he’d start any moment now. His stomach reminded him of his hunger, so he took a deep breath and prepared for the worst. He swung the wet rag over his shoulder, and as soon as it made contact with his back, he cried out. This is way too cold! What have I done? This was a mistake! Oh please, God of Life, why are you not protecting me?

He panted, taking deep breaths as the freezing water flowed down his spine. Ew, ew, ew. Why did I do this?

“There you are!” a female voice called out from behind him.

What? Who?

His head snapped back to see who was peeking out of the bushes. It was Lydia. What is she doing here?

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Realizing that he was naked, his cheeks burned up.

“I’ve been looking all over for you!” Lydia climbed over the bushes and approached him.

“P-Please don’t come closer,” he stammered as he curled up into a ball to cover as much skin as possible, “I’m not wearing anything!”

Maybe the moonlight-

“Yes, I know that. Montgomery told me that you were cleaning yourself.” She placed a bucket next to his.

That dog! That little goblinshit! I’ll kill him!

She took out a piece of fine cloth from the steaming water. “I can’t believe that you were using that muck.”

Without warning, she pressed the cloth on his shoulder blades, and he let out a whine. It was hot, but just the right amount of hot. Especially after he drenched himself in that nasty ice water. It was… nice.

He snapped back to reality. “I can do this myself, you know!”

image [https://i.imgur.com/wEmAwUd.jpeg]

“Yes, I can see that. Using waste water you didn’t even boil. The well is right behind my hut, and the campfire is already burning. I mean, Gods, you men.”

His shame quickly gave way to him feeling insulted. I’m hungry and want to be done as soon as possible. Who does she think she is?

Still, he couldn’t talk back because she was absolutely right. It did feel a lot better being scrubbed with hot water. So, he crossed his arms over his legs to cover everything and just sat there as Lydia applied a bar of soap to his back. Man, she really came prepared.

His heart started to pound heavily, and he tensed up. Why did she come prepared? Is she-?

“Don’t worry, that’s my job,” Lydia said, sensing how uncomfortable he was, “you wouldn’t be able to reach your back anyway. You’re gonna do the rest by yourself.”

“Your job is to scrub people’s backs?”

“Yes… In a way.” Her voice sounded sad, less strict than before. “Actually just the Baron’s. He likes to keep me close, so I have to also serve his meals and bring him his tea.”

“Oh…” That bastard!

Lydia washed the soap off his back and handed him the cloth. She turned away as he started cleaning his arms.

“Timothy told me about you.”

He lowered his head. “Yeah, I know.”

The water started to pool around the rock, and he watched the reflection of the moonlight dance in the disgusting mix of mud and blood. They didn’t speak for a while.

“You don’t seem like the Adventurers from today,” Lydia broke the silence.

“What do you mean?” he asked while plunging the rag into the hot water.

“You remind me of those who first arrived here years ago.”

“How so?”

“They were kind.” She stopped to think for a moment. “Like the Hero.”

“The Hero?” he asked.

But before Lydia could clarify what she meant, they heard a rustling coming from the bushes, startling both of them. A figure emerged into the moonlight. It was Varyan.