Chapter 28: So Much for a Quiet Bath

The hand tightened, sending a jolt of pain down my shoulder and into my elbow. I jumped, turning around to see an incredibly well-dressed, muscular man.

"I take it that you are the human my daughter is so smitten with?" the man said, his voice aggressive but surprisingly eloquent.

"I am," I said, rubbing my shoulder. "And who might you be?" I asked, matching his tone.

Bad idea.

The man’s eyebrows shot straight up, widening his eyes as he lowered his face until it was level with mine.

"Well, young man, I am the ruling king of the demon realm. Zeref. And you are Sam Smith, the Outworlder taking care of my sweet daughter."

I gulped. "Y-yeah, I’m Sam. Sorry, sir," I stammered, lowering my head. "It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir."

Something shifted in the air.

When I raised my head, he was smiling wide. He punched me on the shoulder, laughing as though we had just shared a joke. After that, he politely asked to have some time alone with his daughter to "talk."

Damara assured me it was nothing as they left us behind with Zeke.

Zeke showed us to our gigantic room. The ceiling was vaulted, stretching high above us, and the air was crisp and cool. A faint, indescribable scent filled the room.

Micro-Sarah and Katrina walked around curiously, bouncing from one thing to another as they poked and prodded anything unfamiliar.

"We’ll send someone in a few hours to escort you all to dinner. Damara should be back by then," Zeke explained. "But until then, Sam, make yourself at home."

He flashed me a grin before leaving the room. The door shut behind him with a heavy click, sealing us inside.

"Hear that, ladies? We get to relax until dinner," I called, cupping my hands around my mouth to make my voice louder. "Don’t break anything."

After giving my pits a sniff, I decided it was a good time to get washed up.

As I walked into the bathroom, I realized it was almost as large as the room itself. A large pool in the center was filled to the brim with steaming water.

The humid air clung to my skin as I stripped away my clothes, folding them neatly and placing them into a wicker basket. I walked to the water’s edge and slowly dipped my toe into the water.

Perfect temperature.

I climbed in, sinking slowly beneath the steaming surface. Then I lowered my head into the water, staying under only a few moments as I rubbed the slick sweat off my face.

My face felt immediately cool after coming up, the water pouring down. As I rubbed my eyes, the sound of laughter grew.

The heavy wooden door clicked open, and Katrina poked her head in. Her feline ears instantly shot upright at the wall of steam, and her tail went completely stiff.

"Ah! S-Sam! I’m sorry, I didn’t know—"

"It’s fine, Katrina," I said, hastily sinking until the water reached my chin. "Just... soaking."

She lingered on the threshold, golden eyes wide as she took in the sprawling, marble-lined pool. Having lived on the run for years, she’d clearly never witnessed this caliber of absurd palace luxury.

"Is it... really that warm?" she asked softly.

I knew immediately where this was going. "Yeah. It’s plenty warm."

Curiosity won over modesty. Shedding her clothing, she slipped into the far end of the pool with an audible gasp of delight. Her bright, orange, fur-tipped tail bobbed up to float lazily along the rippling surface like a curious sea creature.

A tiny turquoise blur zipped through the steam before I could even settle back down. Micro-Sarah hovered right between us, her translucent wings humming, before perching delicately on the edge of the carved marble basin. She crossed her miniature arms, looking down like an amused tyrant.

"You two look entirely too comfortable without me," she chirped.

"Sarah, please," I muttered, feeling a flush creep up my neck that had nothing to do with the temperature.

"Look at him, Katrina. He’s practically boiling," Sarah teased. "The heat must be getting to him."

Katrina blinked through wet bangs, completely guileless. "Why are you red, Sam? Is the water too hot?"

"I’m fine," I croaked.

Drawn by the heat, Katrina drifted closer, a low, rumbling purr vibrating in her chest. She settled against the submerged bench right beside me. Then, beneath the cloudy, steaming surface, something sleek and wet brushed against my calf.

It slowly, deliberately curled around my lower leg.

My entire nervous system flatlined. Her tail.

Katrina didn’t even notice. She simply let out a contented sigh, her ears folding back in bliss.

I survived demon warlords, cursed catacombs, and Celestia’s elite, I thought in blind panic. Somehow, this is infinitely more lethal.

Before my brain could reboot, Katrina leaned sideways, resting her damp forehead against my bare shoulder.

"I really like this place," she whispered. There was no hesitation in her voice this time. No nervous stammering, no guarded expression. Just simple, uncomplicated happiness.

The flustered panic died in my throat. Hearing the raw, quiet reverence in her voice, I realized she wasn’t talking about the bath. She was talking about having a roof that didn’t leak, food that wasn’t stolen, and somewhere safe to finally let her guard down. My hand instinctively rose, gently patting her damp hair.

"Aww. How precious," a tiny voice sneered from the edge. Micro-Sarah was grinning like a menace. "Should I go fetch Damara?"

"Don’t you dare—"

The latch clicked. The door swung wide.

Damara stood framed in the steam. Her crimson gaze tracked from Katrina plastered affectionately against my side, down to the telltale ripples of her tail around my leg, and finally to my frozen, scarlet face.

A silence heavier than a war hammer fell over the bathhouse.

Damara’s lips slowly parted into a predatory smirk. "Looks like I missed something."

Katrina beamed, entirely innocent, her ears perking up happily. "Damara! Come in, there’s plenty of room!"

Somewhere deep within my chest, my soul quietly detached from my body and floated toward the ceiling.