The Ippos King (Wraith Kings #3) - Grace Draven Page 0,132

were laid across the bed. A cheery fire danced in the hearth to chase away some of the room's cold.

Ildiko gestured to the chair. “It appears they forgot a comb, and you're in desperate need of one,” she said, more matter-of-fact than insulting. “I know you well enough by now to know you'll refuse a maid, so I'll send someone up to drop the comb off to you.” She left Anhuset standing next to the table of food, pausing on the threshold, one hand on the door. “We're glad you're returned, Anhuset. I don't think I've ever seen Brishen afraid until you didn't come back when expected.” She closed the door softly behind her.

Anhuset stared at the surface of planking studded with nails and bound with strap hinges. “Then you never saw him when he feared for you, hercegesé” she said softly.

With no choice but to give Brishen the time he requested, she ate the food brought and drank the wine, though if someone were to ask her what she consumed and how it tasted, she couldn't say. It was sustenance, nothing more. Her mind was elsewhere, or specifically, on someone. Every worst-case scenario played out in her mind regarding Serovek's fate. A cursory or bypassed trial, an even faster execution via the gallows rope or the headman's ax. She shoved aside her half-finished plate and downed the rest of the wine.

Steam no longer wafted off the water's surface in her bath, but it was still warm enough. Besides, she wasn't using it to relax but to wash away days of road dirt and sweat, not to mention the spit and blood Ogran had managed to splatter on her. She was thoroughly sick of being splashed with bodily fluid from human males.

What about Serovek? the small evil voice inside her mocked.

That's not even in the same realm, she thought as she peeled off her filthy clothes and kicked them aside before stepping into the bath. She sank to her knees, allowing the water to rise to her chin and lap at her earlobes. The memories of making love to Serovek chased away the less pleasant ones of battles and beatings and blood. They blunted the sharp edges of the panic that threatened to suffocate her.

He'd lived up to his reputation as a superior lover. He'd made her body sing under his hands and mouth. Even now it hummed at the memory him inside her, the stretch and swell of his cock as he thrust into her, a slow up and back motion that increased in speed as he cupped her buttocks in his hands and suckled the sensitive hollow where her neck curved to her collarbone.

Her body missed him, but her spirit missed him even more. Anhuset had taken lovers before who, while maybe not as well endowed, knew how to please their partners as well as Serovek did. She didn't miss or crave them, didn't linger on the recollections of their intimacy, wouldn't remember their faces if some of them didn't serve under Brishen's command here at Saggara. The margrave though… she missed it all. The sex, yes, but just as much or even more, the time they spent together in conversation or the completion of mundane tasks, even the fear and thrill of fighting. Those previous lovers had never looked at her beyond the intimidating sha who had the regent's trust and was good with a sword. The margrave had, from the very first moment he met her, made it plain he was very much enamored with what he saw. Not just sha-Anhuset, the Kai warrior, but Anhuset, the prickly, guarded woman who knew her way around a blade but couldn't conquer a hair ribbon if her life depended on it.

“Don't you dare die on me, you arrogant bastard,” she said, glaring at the opposite wall as if Serovek stood there watching her with one of his bold smiles.

Dwelling on those lovelier moments made her heart ache, so she pushed them down into the recesses of her mind and tended to her bath. By the time she was finished, the water was murky, and she still hadn't washed her hair.

Ildiko returned with a procession of servants in tow carrying a smaller tub and several buckets of more warm water. A pair of burly servants hauled in her chest of clothes. They set their items down where she instructed and shooed them out when they were done. Ignoring Anhuset's dour scrutiny, she peered at the water and curled her