Chapter 8 - Close Call

50 6 17
                                    

Kira

"I-I'm almost finished," I stated meekly, casting my eyes down.  His gaze could melt steel.

Nikolai harrumphed, no doubt at the mess I had made of boots scattered on the floor.  I had gotten most of them done in an efficiently short period of time. Looking back at the boot on my hand, I dutifully went back to my polishing.

"By the way," Nikolai broke the silence. "I'd like to take a bath.  Would you fill the tub?"

I paused for a moment.  Eyes wide, I nodded then wiped my forehead with the back of my hand.  Nikolai pressed his lips into a thin line, exhaling through his nose.  Wasn't that another maids job?  I supposed since I was here, there was no use in making him wait for another.

Nikolai stayed in his spot as I rose, curtsied then disappeared into his bathing room to fill the tub.  Light footfalls sauntered after me slowly.  A figure leaned in the doorjamb watching me.  I hauled several buckets of hot water from the pot over the fireplace into his bathroom.

When finished, I turned back to him.  My cheeks flushed a deeper pink when I realized Nikolai had been watching me. 

Awkward.

Quickly, I curtsied hurrying passed him to exit out of the room to conclude polishing.  Yet again, Nikolai stopped me by blocking the door with his stature and commanding baritone voice.

"Also," he began.  "I need you to mend my shirt."

I nodded, slowly lifting my eyes to his.  "Of course.  Where is it?"

Nikolai pursed his lips as if hoping I would ask.  "Here," he replied.  In one swift movement, Nikolai pulled the tunic  off his body and held the crumpled shirt out to me.

If it was possible to blush even more fiercely, I did. I fought the tempting urge to look at his toned, glistening torso but I failed.  Nikolai smirked briefly, knowing I was looking.  Confidence, I knew, was one of his many strong characteristics.  He knew he was attractive even at nearly 19.  I snatched the shirt out of his hands.  With record speed I went to the bench at the end of his bed to mend the tear in the sleeve.

Nikolai smirked again then retreated into the bathroom.  The water would be perfectly warm.  I had even set out the soaps and oils for him.  If he was one who usually required help bathing, I decided I couldn't handle that.

Diligently I sewed the shirt as carefully as I could.  My fingers worked accurately.  I surprised myself at this newfound skill.  I also noticed that there was a blood stain around the tear.  My brows wrinkled thinking that Nikolai had gotten hurt. When I heard the unmistakable humming of Sasha, I crossed the room and dipped my head outside Nikolai's door.

"Sasha," I called softly.  The older woman turned and smiled.  "Could you get me some salve for a cut, please?"

"What for, dear?" Sasha asked.  Her face frowned in concern, eyes surveying me for a wound.

"I think the prince has an injury.  He's bathing now," I explained.

"Yes, of course.  I'll be right back."

I thanked her then went back inside.  Now finished polishing all of Nikolai's boots, I set myself at the task of putting them away in a smaller side room where his uniforms were kept hanging.

I had just put away the last pair when Sasha knocked and entered.  She handed me a small jar and a cloth.  In turn, I handed Sasha Nikolai's stained shirt to be washed.  Giving the older woman a cheerful thank you and a smile, I blushed again when Sasha winked as her response.

Once Upon His DecemberWhere stories live. Discover now