Moonlight trickled over the calm lake, occasional wind stirred the water surface. She could have enjoyed such a peaceful view, but inside she felt anything but peace.
Her resolve a few moments ago was faltering. Whenever she wanted time to slow down it always moved like flowing sand and when she wanted it to go faster, it wouldn't even budge.
She reasoned herself to not bother too much by such a request, why would he call her, it might just be a coincidence and even then, he is a lord, even if he chose her by some miraculous once in a million times luck, sooner or later he will be done with her. And then what? She is hardly holding her pieces together. why risk everything… she just has to hold on till it passes.
The night was cold, she slid back her gloves and lifted the bucket. And walked towards her doom.
The path was clearly visible, the makeshift pedestal in the center of clearing was clearly visible, the person sitting on that pedestal…was clearly visible. Sitting like a king, playing with rocks in one hand, deep in thought. She hesitated a little out of habit.
"Bring it here" Daria clutched the handle tight, held her heart in place and slowly brought the water to him.
What he did next was the real test. "Take it" He removed the cape, and there was sitting a completely naked man, perfect in every sense.
Without giving herself time to feel, she looked at him trying to figure out what he meant. He looked…irritated. Did she do something wrong?
She took the cape and moved back to the edge. Standing still, her head bowed down, waiting desperately to be done with all this.
Rustling of cold wind, sound of cricket, swirling of rocks in his hand, she could hear everything clearly, but there was no splashing of water, not even a trickle. She slowly, ever so slowly dared to look and met his intent gaze…annoyed, yet amused.
Without breaking eye contact he lifted the bucket over his head. Water flowed over his perfect face to strong shoulders to prideful chest. A shiver ran through her entire body. And he didn't miss it.
"Wash cloth" He ordered without breaking eye contact.
It was a struggle to act next, yet she found herself holding a clean cloth and his cape, standing behind, wiping his firm back, filled with battle marks. She moved slowly to the glistening shoulder, to his rhythmic chest, rising and falling, matching her own desperation.
She didn't dare move any further and in a moment of determination covered it all with his cape. Before it affected her more. In that moment he grabbed her wrist…firm…not letting her move.
Now she was scared, did she cross the line? Without leaving her wrist, he got up.
"Are you pitying me?…you lowly servent…you…". What? His face was filled with a mixture of annoyance and helplessness. Every word stung.
But first she has to calm him down. How? say sorry? Beg for mercy? But what did she do wrong?
"...Never show your weakness..." She took a deep breath.
"Its just a job of a servant to understand master's need my lord" she said in as polite tone as she can muster.
"You…a man …you think you can fulfil my needs? " His tone was deadly calm, but she could sense the ripple of anger behind each word. She definitely made it worse.
"That's…of course not, my apologies.." she blurted out in a single breath.
"You'll be riding in back seat starting tomorrow, now leave"