Nobles

Ch. 4: Not a word

The feeling when she sunk into the warm water was indescribable. Philo held her by her arms, letting her sit down at her own pace.

The way the water hugged her skin, the warmth made love to her nerves, and loosened her sore muscles, it made her almost giddy.

She just wanted to sit there forever when she had finally gotten fully submerged. The thought of taking her arms up from the water to wash her hair was not an option. Strixe leaned back with a sigh and closed her eyes.

Philo sat at the table not far from the tub and watched her discreetly. Her eyes were closed, and her head hung back. Her breasts were barely visible, the water made ripples every time she breathed, and his eyes kept going back to them.

He had seen her naked so many times and always kept a professional distance and objectiveness to looking at her, but what he was looking at was not a medical procedure.

"Don't sit there too long, the water will get cold."

"I won't. I just feel too good."

"There's a bar of soap and a washcloth for you." He handed them to her and sat back down, creating some distance between them for his own peace of mind.

"Take your time, just promise me you won't get cold."

Nodding, she started lathering up.

Strixe slowly washed her arms and legs, breasts, and stomach. He tried not to look but he kept an eye on her all the time, though he had to look away when she winched cleaning between her legs. "You need to be careful. I've removed the stitches, but you're still healing."

"Help me with my hair and my back?"

Philo pulled over his chair to sit behind her and ladled water from a bucket onto her hair.

"Tell me about your country before the war?"

He laughed a bit. "I was seven when it happened, I can't remember much. I think it's more an idolization of what was than actual memories."

"Tell me anyway."

"It was a beautiful country," he said while gently massaging soap into her hair. "Florin, the capital, is by the Mediterranean Sea, and it's everything you'd expect from an old European city. The palace was built in the 1300's and looks a lot more like a medieval castle than a palace. Originally it was a fortress, protecting against invaders. It's old but very beautiful in my opinion."

Philo paused and continued with longing, "The view of it from the city streets towering above the city is breathtaking. It truly shows the beauty of the capital."

He said it with such pride it made her teary for him.

"That sounds beautiful. Have you seen the inside of it? Is it as old-fashioned inside too? I remember having been to a castle in Scotland once, that looked like a scene from Ivanhoe."

He smiled at her reference of comparison, for an American, that might be how she envisioned castles and old countries. "You must note that I remember what I saw with the eyes of a child. I'd say some of it is like that, but the royal families did modernize it over the years. I have no idea how it looks now. It still stands, though."

"It must be strange."

"It is. I fight for my country and believe in the royal family and trust that if they regain control then they'll do what's best for our country. But if I have to be honest, I'm not sure it'll ever happen."

Philo sighed.

Not like he was giving up. Just sighed at the hopelessness of the situation.

"Don't say that. If you fight for what you believe in, you have a purpose in life. I respect that a lot."