Chapter 5: Hot Water

Dorrie let him out on the fourth night.

"The king says the burn wants hot water," she said, and held the door. "Don't make me regret it."

She walked him down three flights and through a door at the bottom of the north wing.

Past it a stone stair went down into the rock.

The air got warm and wet, and it smelled of minerals and steam.

At the bottom lay a cave with a black pool under a dripping stone ceiling.

A few lanterns hung from iron hooks.

"An hour," Dorrie said, and shut the door above him.

Kit stood alone and listened to the water.

He had not been warm all the way through since the chain went on.

He stripped slowly, with his back to the stair, and stepped down into the pool.

The heat hit his neck and shoulders, and he groaned out loud.

The burn stung and then stopped stinging.

He sank to his chin on the stone ledge and shut his eyes.

For ten full minutes he thought about nothing at all.

"You'll go soft," Ewan said.

Kit's eyes snapped open.

The king stood at the foot of the stair with a towel over one shoulder, in a pair of dark trousers and nothing else.

He was broad through the chest and scarred across the ribs, and the lantern light slid over every hard line of him.

Kit forced his eyes to his face.

"This is supposed to be an hour on my own," he said.

"Dorrie told you that."

"Dorrie lied."

"Dorrie does what I tell her."

Ewan dropped the towel and unbuttoned his trousers.

He stepped out of them without any hurry, and Kit looked, because there was no way not to.

He was thick and heavy and already half hard.

"Come here," Ewan said, from the edge.

"No."

"Kit."

It was the first time he had used the name.

It hit Kit low in the stomach.

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