She had rushed away to use the looking glass in her room, and to compose her emotions, but hearing him say he gave her something as beautiful as that just to spite another man ruined the mood for her.

The pretty necklace suddenly felt like a piece of heavy and cold metal she had to wear.

She stared at the floor in front of her, completely oblivious to the dismissal of the servants.

"Close the door behind you, Miss Stenly."

Her head snapped up.

"I should leave." She said quickly. "Since you are in a much too fragile state to have any wine, I can not be of any service to you."

Then, that smile appeared. The one that reminded her that he was as dangerous as he was kind.

"Given all that has happened lately, I can’t trust anyone else to assist me with my bath."

Her jaw dropped down to the floor before she had the sense to pick it up.

"You cannot possibly be serious about that. I am a woman for crying out loud."

He propped his head on his arms and watched her with a glint of amusement in his eyes.

"A woman who has seen all there is to see, if I may add."

Claire felt her face heat up uncontrollably. Her eyes flicked over his body involuntarily before returning to his face.

"That still does not make this appropriate."

He arched a brow. "Is anything that goes on between us appropriate?"

She drew in a deep breath.

"Why are you doing this?"

His smile faltered for a second.

"Doing what?"

"Asking me to help you with your bath out of the blue."

He looked up at the ceiling, pondering her question.

"Because I want you to."

Just that?

Slowly, as if savouring every second, he slid off the bed and walked to the edge of the tub.

Then, he began loosening the lace of his cotton shirt.

Claire tried to avert her eyes but could not.

His hands fumbled several times, and each time, he winced.

The idiot was in pain and he was still taking his time with the buttons.

"Let me." She said, moving to assist him.

Claire couldn’t just stand there and watch him torture himself, even though she would love nothing else.

He let his hands fall to his sides as she took hold of the laces.

"Who even tied this? The person should be hanged." She muttered under her breath as she struggled with the laces.

And he had the gall to look so smug. She ignored him as much as she could, but every time her knuckles grazed the warm skin of his abdomen, she felt heat ripple through her, from her finger tips to the rest of her body.

He lifted his right hand to toy with the laces of her bodice but she swatted his hand away like one would swat a fly.

"Keep your hands to yourself or you would uneventfully drown in your bath."

He grinned.

With a sigh of relief, she finally undid the laces and push the garment off his shoulders.

Without realising it, her breath caught at the sight of his bare chest.

There were faint scars and scabs, though most were disappearing. It was healing, she realized.

He was healing.

She peeled the sleeve of the shirt off his left arm to get a better look at the wound. It had closed up completely, leaving a bright red mark in its place.

"It doesn’t change anything. I will still remain an invalid as long as it means you would help me bath."

Claire rolled her eyes.

"You can very well bathe yourself, Your Grace."

He pretended to wince.

"I am still in pain."

Sighing, she started tugging the strings on his breeches. Her face was dark crimson at this point, but she managed to keep her breathing even.

"Don’t get too eager." He whispered into her hair.

She was tempted for the hundredth time to leave him to bathe himself.

But there was something alluring about undressing a King - especially one that looked like Yeren.

Her hands itched to run themselves along the smooth muscles of his chest...

She shook her head to clear her thoughts and pulled the last string free of the cloth.

The waist came loose and she looked at him, urging him with her eyes to pull it down.

He just stared at her, his injured arm tucked safely behind him.

He wanted her to continue?

"I am afraid you are asking too much of me, Your Grace. Andon or one of your guards should be the one doing this." She said without meeting his gaze.

"Is it so hard for you to call me by my name? I keep imagining that you would choke and die on the spot if you did."

"Maybe I would. But stop changing the subject."

He cocked a brow. "And the subject was?"

"What you are asking of me... is embarrassing."

He ran a hand through his hair.

"Why? Because you intend to marry someone else?"

Her lips thinned at the question.

She was almost certain he could hear the loud drumming of her heart against her ribs.

"My God, Yeren. I am trying not to compromise us both and you are asking me to do just that! You really do want to..."

Before she could complete her sentence, he covered her mouth with his.

"Just say you want me. You talk too much, Miss Stenly."

She gulped, remaining silent.

She didn’t resist his advances... mostly because she couldn’t.

The skin of his skin seated through her layers of clothing, finding it’s way to her skin.

She caught herself pressing harder against his body.

What was the point in fighting it? A wicked voice in her head asked.

Before she realized it, she was lifted off the floor and dropped into the bath. Only when the water began seeping through her garments did she open her eyes.

But he didn’t give her time to react.

He joined her inside and covered her lips with his.