CHAPTER 118: BATH - I

Chapter 116: Bath - I

Ethan leaned back slightly as Darion stepped out of the room, a quiet thought flickering across his mind. Of course he’s not the head. A true family head wouldn’t be running errands to villages, haggling for materials. This one’s just the branch merchant, ambitious and eager.

It didn’t take long before Darion returned, parchment in one hand and a small pouch in the other. His steps were brisk, his smile practiced.

"This," he said, placing the parchment neatly on the table, "is the contract. Simple and binding, one copy for you, one for us — the other I will send directly to the head of our family. And here..." He pushed the pouch forward, the clink of coins soft yet heavy, "...the agreed payment."

Ethan checked the pouch, arching a brow. Ten gleaming gold coins stared back at him. "This much?"

Darion’s lips curved, a hint of satisfaction in his expression. "What you’ve brought us today is exceedingly rare. Consider the extra a token of gratitude — not just for the materials, but for the business opportunity we’ve found in you."

For a heartbeat, Ethan studied him in silence. Then he gave a curt nod. "Fair enough."

The parchment was signed, crisp strokes sealing the agreement. One copy slid into Ethan’s possession, while Darion tucked the other away for delivery to his family’s head.

They lingered for a while longer, exchanging pleasantries — the kind of polite words both sides knew carried little weight. Eventually, Ethan rose, Lirael following.

As they stepped out through the tall gates of the estate, the city had changed. The sun had dipped beneath the horizon, painting the sky in hues of amber fading to deep violet. Street lamps flickered to life one by one, casting warm halos across the cobbled paths. The once-busy markets had quieted, replaced by the savory aroma of evening meals drifting from taverns and homes alike.

Ethan stretched lightly, his hand brushing the weight of the new pouch at his side. "Looks like it’s about time for dinner."

With a quiet chuckle, the two of them set off through the lantern-lit streets, leaving the Kettlemore estate behind.

They stopped at a tavern, one of the larger ones in the district, where the smell of roasted meat and freshly baked bread filled the air. The tables were bustling with merchants, travelers, and mercenaries, but the innkeeper, quick to notice their presence, made sure they were well served. Platters of seasoned lamb, buttery potatoes, and thick slices of bread were set before them, along with steaming bowls of stew rich with herbs. A jug of mellow wine and cool water followed, the warmth of the meal slowly melting away the fatigue of the road.

After eating their fill, Ethan and Lirael excused themselves and headed toward the rooms they had reserved earlier in the day. The corridor was quiet, the wooden floor creaking faintly under their steps. As soon as the door shut behind them, Ethan’s gaze turned sharp, a fire burning behind his calm expression.

Before Lirael could speak, he swept her into his arms and pressed his lips against hers.

Now you’re not escaping anywhere, his thoughts rumbled with possessive certainty.

Her hands pushed against his chest in resistance, her muffled voice lost between kisses. But the more she struggled, the tighter his hold became. When he finally pulled back, both were breathing heavily, their lips wet and flushed.

"W–wait," Lirael gasped, her cheeks scarlet. "I... I’m dirty... I need to bathe first!"

Ethan tilted his head, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. "Oh? A bath, huh? Then let’s go."

"Wha—?"

Without giving her a chance to protest, he lifted her again, carrying her toward the washroom attached to the chamber.

---

Ethan set Lirael gently on the edge of the bathtub, the warm lanternlight casting soft shadows across the tiled washroom. Steam from the hot water rose lazily, filling the air with a faint herbal scent from the bath oils already poured in.

Without a word, his fingers moved to the buttons of her maid dress. One by one, he slipped them open, his touch unhurried, deliberate. As the fabric loosened, he knelt down, sliding her stocking down her pale thighs. His lips brushed against her skin in a sudden kiss.

"Eeeek!" Lirael jolted, her voice cracking into a high-pitched squeak. She grabbed at his shoulder, eyes wide. "E-Ethan! What are you doing?! I can... I can do it myself! A-and why are you even here with me?!"

He lifted his head slowly, meeting her flustered gaze with a steady one of his own. A faint, teasing smile curved his lips.

"Why am I here? Isn’t it obvious?" His tone dropped into a low, mischievous rumble. "I came to bathe... and my maid is going to help me today."

Her face went crimson. "H-help you?! Y-you can’t just—"

Ethan leaned closer, his smirk deepening. "What are you waiting for? Go on. Help me undress."

Her jaw dropped. "W-we’re going to bathe together?!"

"Yeah," he replied easily, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I don’t see a problem with that."

"You... you bastard!" she shouted, her voice half anger, half embarrassment. But her hands betrayed her, trembling as they reached for his shirt. "Arghhh..."

Despite her protests, she began undoing his buttons. Every brush of her fingers against his chest made her burn hotter, until she had stripped him down to his trousers. By then, her own dress had slipped off her shoulders, leaving her in only her undergarments, the delicate fabric clinging to her flushed skin.

Before she realized it, she was on her knees before him, fumbling nervously with the clasp of his trousers. Her breath came shallow, the heat in the room mingling with the heat rushing through her body.

"See?" Ethan said softly, his voice almost a purr as he looked down at her. "You’re already doing a good job."

Her fingers froze, and she shot him a glare with cheeks burning scarlet. "S-shut up!".