Lucille woke gradually from her slumber, tucked away deep inside her plush duvet. She could hear the rain pattering on the window and it was all the encouragement she needed to stay in bed for a few extra minutes. She heard the help enter her room and sunk further into her bedding.
There was the clatter as a silver tray with tea was laid on her bedside table then loud movements of the windows heavy latch being undone. The balcony doors themselves made no noise as they opened though she could hear the rain increase in volume and a few tell tale signs of the city, though too far away in her high castle room for any to be distinguishable.
She gave in and surrendered to the fact she would have to get up. Lucille tried to extend a ‘Good morning’ to the maid which became more yawn and unrecognisable gargles. She stretched her limbs out and ruffled her already mess of hair, kicking her toes free of the covers and arms thrown out behind her. It was warm despite the weather, the wet balconies stone filling the room with a musky early morning smell as the raindrops slapped against its surface. It was a completely different type of tranquil to the house she had stayed in the night before; the experience of a morning in those slums was vastly different. While this was pleasant and comforting it simply failed to excite Lucille in the same way. She took her tea to her nose and breathed in the warming aroma, smiling as she caught scent of yesterday’s adventure and activities amidst the fumes. The smell had clung to her skin and hair vehemently and she would need a good wash before she could present herself before her parents.
“Your father has requested to speak with you” the maid said, curtseying in the doorway
“Thank you that shall be all” Lucille said, putting on a noble tone and straightening her back. A façade that disappeared the moment the door was closed “Bollocks” she exclaimed, expressing her actual feeling on the matter, to some extent she knew she would not be able to keep her excursions into the city a secret from him forever. There is only so many times one can claim they had simply stayed hidden away in their room or got lost in the Palace grounds, let alone flashing her breasts to the guards so that they kept her comings and goings a secret. Also, very few chances Lucille imagined that she could continue pleading desperately after tear sodden arguments with her mother to give her another chance, before word eventually reached her father, The King.
Lucille stood, returned the teacup to its tray and pulled off her night clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor. She basked in the breeze from the balcony naked for a few moments as she stretched out the rest of her stiff joints.
There was a crackle of lightning over the city followed by a heavy thunder. Lucille looked out and pondered what her friend would be up to today.
-
Her footsteps made quiet patters, a mimicry of the rain upon her balcony, as she walked through the hallway. She despised how edict required that she wear boots traversing the castle, even for the short distance between her room and the bathing chamber. She reminisced of the times walking bare foot in her lovers’ home and longed for the feel of the soft wooden floorboards beneath her feet, a familiar comfort, where the harsh beams were worn away from centuries of use and a thousand footfalls, leaving smooth inviting rivets among the planks to wander. In contrast the hallways of the Castle were tended weekly, any impurities in the wood sanded away and the pretty natural wooden floors were hidden beneath plush garish rugs. Lucille had come to hate such gaudy things in recent years, as her attentions had become stolen by the stark contrast of the city outside.
Stolen novel; please report.
As she entered the bathing chamber a warm plume of fragrant air struck her, the hand maidens she had instructed to prepare the bath were waiting either side of the large ceramic tub. Their sleeves rolled back, and a selection of delicate oils and balms were laid out on a table beside a plush towel. A stone chimney at the back of the small chamber held a wide cauldron, where more water was being heated by a small fire. This cauldron would have been used to fill the bath and now sat heating should Lucille require a soak and her bathwater re-warmed. For now, it stood, with pouches of lavender floating on the surface steaming the room and filing it with relaxing scents.
“That will be all, thank you” Lucille said, adopting her regal tone.
The maidens remained at their stations for a moment, confused glances thrown between them as they tried to process the instruction.
“I shall bath myself, you are excused” Lucille re-iterated and stepped aside to direct them out of the chamber. With a bow they left, and Lucille bolted the door, glad for the privacy as she undressed. The royal privileges saw almost every daily task plagued by servants and to Lucille it felt more like coddling than a comfort or luxury.
She descended a foot into the warm water, wincing at first as the contrast of hot and cold sent a shiver along the length of her leg. Once accustomed to the difference she submerged herself, dipping her head beneath the surface of the water briefly to embrace the welcoming heat of the bath. She sat there for some time immersed by billows of steam that eddied about the room from the cauldron and the sweet scents of the oils and lavender. She ran a hand across her body and images of the times her lover had bathed her played through her head. His home had no fancy dedicated bathing chamber, nor cauldron and scent pouches. But she had watched patiently as he cleared space in his living quarters and retrieved the washing basin, a small wooden thing that seeped water from its seams. She had to curl up and hold onto her knees to fit comfortably within. Once he had heated the water, making several trips between the flame and basin and using most of the fresh water he had stored within a barrel, she sat in the shallow warmth and he cupped water in his hands to pour over her back. There were no rich balms and oils, though he had a ball of hard wax which smelt of honey and said it would keep her skin smooth and clean as he worked it into her. That was the luxury Lucille wanted and craved over handmaidens and pampering. A genuine caring affection.
Her hands continued to play over her skin as she recalled more times with her lover, finding the soft delicate places that made her elicit a soft moan and encouraged further touch. As she sat alone in the privacy of her warm bath, her mind was alive with fantasies of her other life, outside of the castle and in that quiet place, she could hear by her ear the heavy breathing of the man she loved. She delved deeper into her pleasure as her mind listened to his rasping breaths.