I caught sight of bronzed skin dusted with dark hair, strong thighs, and the sleek, muscled curve of his backside. His body truly was a work of art, all the nicks oddly adding to the perfection.
“You could’ve said you didn’t want to see everything,” Casteel continued, startling me enough that I looked away, cheeks flaming. Water sloshed against the sides of the tub as he climbed in. “You can look now. I’m…somewhat proper.”
I folded my arms across my chest.
“Although, not nearly proper enough for your barely ex-Maiden eyes,” he continued. This time I spun toward the bathing chamber. All I could see was the back of his head and the breadth of his shoulders, which was more than enough. “But I imagine your issue has nothing to do with what is proper or expected of you, is it? You’ve never been one to follow the rules.”
I shook my head even though he couldn’t see as he reached for the soap, lathering the bar between his hands. He was right. I didn’t care about what was proper or expected, and that was long before he swept into my life like a fierce storm. But there was no way he was staying in this room with me. Tearing my gaze from him, I turned—
“Go for the knife.” Casteel’s voice stopped me.
My head snapped back in his direction as water splashed. How had he known?
“That’s what you want, right? If it makes you feel safer, I don’t have a problem with it.” He splashed his face. Water ran down his neck and over the delineated lines of his shoulders. “Take it, Poppy.”
My mouth dried. “You’re not afraid I’ll use it against you while you take your time bathing?”
“I’m counting on you to use it again. If you didn’t, I’d be shocked. That’s why I didn’t bring my swords into the room. Figured you’d probably grab one of them.”
I would if they were near. My hands opened and closed at my sides. He was offering me some level of protection, a sense of safety, and to some, that would be seen as a positive. Not to me. It was kind of offensive and pointless. He and I both knew the knife would only make him bleed temporarily.
I still hurried over to where the knife lay and picked it up, my rising irritation halting when I saw the blood on the blade. His blood. My stomach twisted as I rose.
“Do you want to know about the land of hot water that awaits with just the turn of a knob?” he asked amidst the trickling of water.
Yes, I did, even though I wasn’t sure I believed that such a thing existed. Yet I said nothing as I picked up the towel I’d used earlier. I wiped the knife clean.
“It’s broilers and pipes,” he went ahead and explained. “The piping runs from the broilers that are usually in a room off the kitchen. From there, they carry the hot water to wherever it’s needed.”
Reluctantly, my interest had been piqued and was now stroked. “What do you mean by broilers?”
“They’re like…large ovens where combustible material heats a storage tank of water.” He rose without warning, and all that water sluicing down the gleaming skin of his back, between—
Heart pounding, I whirled away from the bathing chamber. A handful of seconds passed, and I looked over my shoulder just as he walked out of the smaller room, a towel tucked around his waist. He was… I had no words to describe his level of indecency. Or maybe I had too many words in my head—
Casteel smiled at me as he strode across the room, opening a narrow cabinet in the wall that I hadn’t investigated. He pulled out what appeared to be black pants. “Electricity aids the broilers, and yes, in Atlantia, all homes and businesses, no matter who resides inside them, have power.”
Fixing my gaze on the fire, I thought about what he’d said. If only what he claimed was true. That would probably be the first of many things that set the kingdom apart from the one I’d grown up in. Only the extremely wealthy or the well-connected had access to electricity in Solis. “How is that possible?”
“It may be a finite source here, but it doesn’t need to be that way. The Ascended make it that way,” he said, and a quick glance told me that he’d ditched the towel in favor of the pants he’d retrieved. They were looser than breeches, hanging indecently low on his hips, held up by some sort of drawstring that seemed to defy gravity. He gathered up our clothing, placing it all in a laundry hamper that he then placed outside the door. Closing the door, he said, “A crucial part of their all-encompassing control is creating a rift between mortals who have and mortals who have not.”