Irene’s hair was thoroughly washed from her scalp to the ends of her long strands. The weight of the water caused her hair to straighten out, but as the water dripped off, it began to wave again.

The massage the Commander gave Irene’s head was so wonderful that, if it wasn’t their wedding night, she might lean into the sleepy feeling it gave her. She was learning more about herself and what she enjoyed just because of Henry.

Since she was leaning into the side of the basin, her face was angled upward, and when she opened her eyes, Henry’s heart thudded at the pure adoration in his new wife’s expression. Even after months of loving Irene, he was still unaccustomed to being loved so openly. Scars of his past relationship, where he had only been lovable behind closed doors and if he was performing perfectly, were healed by Irene, whether she knew it or not.

"You’re all clean," Henry uttered quietly.

There was a stack of towels nearby, and Henry grabbed one as he stood up.

While Irene had been getting more comfortable being in this state in front of Henry, her nerves were starting to return. Sitting in a bath that covered most of her was tame compared to what was next.

However, she didn’t want him to think she was hesitating, so she took the hand he offered her and stepped into his wide-open arms, which held a towel to dry her off. She hugged him, but she couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze when they were so close to one another.

"You don’t need to be nervous," he assured her.

It only made her face feel hotter. Luckily, her blush was hidden by the candlelight. The room was only getting darker since the sun was sinking further and further under the horizon.

She could only nod in response. At that moment, she couldn’t find the right words.

He continued to guide her forward, and Irene found herself led to the cushions where their bed had been made. She sat down on the edge and waited with the original towel he had been holding around her body.

Henry started off slowly as he crouched in front of her, beginning to dry her with another towel he had brought over. He started at her feet, and all Irene could do was stare. He got higher and higher, and she felt herself get more and more tense.

By the time he was at her thighs, Henry complimented her, "Your skin is so soft. You smell like a fresh garden."

He couldn’t resist kissing one of her knees because that was the closest part of her to his face since he was crouching.

"Henry..." she uttered, feeling even more tense.

"Yes?"

But she was speechless again as he continued diligently, drying her thoroughly and making her feel a new sort of desire that she was so unfamiliar with. Her heart was racing, and her skin felt tingly.

Since she didn’t answer, he finished drying off the upper half of her body. Occasionally, he kissed a bit of her skin as he dried it. Her thigh, her stomach, her shoulder.

He then got to drying her hair. At least she could close her eyes while he did this. She wouldn’t read his gaze or see where his eyes drifted. She felt so vulnerable.

As he pulled the towel off her hair, she felt a warmth disappear and opened her eyes. He brought the towels to a basket next to the bath while Irene pulled her knees towards her chest and hugged them.

Was it going to happen now?

When Henry returned to her, he seemed concerned that she was curled up.

She quickly explained, "I’m so nervous, I’m worried it isn’t going to be good for you. I’ve never done this before."

However, her words didn’t seem to dissuade him as he began to remove his belt and placed his sword next to their bed. He then slipped his tunic off over his head.

There was a pause as Henry looked towards Irene once more, and he slid his thumbs underneath the waist of his pants, but he didn’t continue on until he got a timid nod from her.

"I’ve never done this before either," he responded, his voice so soft. "But I promise I’ll be gentle with you. I never want to hurt you."

Another nod from Irene and her body straightening out as she gained more courage pushed Henry forth as he crawled over her and looked down at her body.

"I can’t believe how beautiful you are everywhere," he whispered. "A peasant like me wasn’t supposed to get this lucky in life."

At that, Irene reached her arms outward, requesting he come closer.

"Come here," she uttered.

But she was only able to catch his shoulders because he was so unbelievably eager about the body he finally had permission to explore.

It was like floodgates had opened because he was passionate and fueled by curiosity. Instead of properly kissing her mouth, he began kissing her stomach and found that she had freckles even on the places that didn’t see the sun.

The mountains and valleys of her body were thoroughly explored as if he were going to make a map out of it. If his desire was to make her want him until she couldn’t stand it any longer, he had succeeded. She thought that she would feel satisfied when he finally kissed her properly, but it only caused her hunger to grow.

She soon got brave enough to cling to him, not only with her arms and hands but her legs and feet as well. He held her just as possessively until there wasn’t a bit of space left between them.

"I love you, Henry," she whispered as she turned her head, and he kissed her cheek.

"I love you, too," he returned.

"Then..." she trailed off.

"Are you ready?" he whispered as he kissed her.

"Yes," she answered. "Please..."

It was enough for him.

For Irene, the pain wasn’t long because he was so gentle and so attuned to her body that he knew how to make her feel better.

The night was long as they discovered each other slowly, being as close as two people could get to each other.