The Wright (Friday Updates)

Cape

As the dress flopped to the bottom of the shower, there was a light clink of metal, the rusted key appearing. At least I had a trinket to show for our troubles. I wondered if it went to any doors in the house, but I already had access to them through magic anyway. I scrubbed the dirt from it as best I could, hand washing the clothes as well to salvage them.

My skin was unhappy with both the adventure and being suddenly rewarmed, but it was better than if I had not received the aid. It took two washes to get clear water to flow from my hair and a very thorough check of all the tiny areas like behind my ears and between my toes to make sure I had gotten it all.

Exhausted, I forced heavy legs out of the shower and wrapped in a towel, ready to sleep harder than I ever had.

"Bells!" I screeched, clutching the cloth tightly to my chest. My heart nearly gave out in fright when I saw a dark figure sitting on my bed. "You'll be the death of me, Your Majesty," I stammered nervously.

"Never," he rumbled, standing to his full height.

Suddenly, I was more afraid that I was in trouble for causing a scene than I was of wearing only a towel. He seemed to realize my state of undress at that very moment, but was now positioned in front of my dresser.

Without thinking, I gestured to it, preferring not to step so close as to brush up against him. "My pajamas."

Kinnut did not hesitate to pull open the top drawer and I closed my eyes with the embarrassment of my mistake, letting a breath out through my nose. His hand, poised to grab whatever was first, hesitated over the lacy undergarments I preferred. Could this night get any worse?

He cleared his throat, grabbing the first pair of bra and underwear available, which happened to match, due to my tidy habits as I stacked them together when putting laundry away. He opened the second drawer to fetch a pair of neatly folded pajamas, unfortunately a set that I had had for many years. Skin sweltering with mortification, I took them and he wisely pivoted to face the wall.

"Did you need something, Sire?"

"Kinnut."

"Kinnut," I parroted softly, staring at his back as I slipped the underwear on and rushed to clasp the bra so my breasts were not completely exposed.

His shoulders tightened and his hands clenched and flexed. I could tell he was still agitated by whatever Saint had done to set him off. Maybe he felt something aggressive from the shifter towards us? It was nice to know he was at least protective of his staff.

The whispering of fabric was the only sound between us. Once I finished, I debated simply leaving him to stare at the paint, but moved to Wiley's cloak, more comfortable if I had something in my hands to fidget with.

"I am dressed."

The king turned and I registered that he was wearing the outfit that I had chosen for him, a black undershirt with a silver vest embellished with his crest. The high and open collar gave him the regal air he often lost to his expressive eyes, hair combed neatly back. He had taken off his cloak and removed his cuff links to roll back sleeves, exposing his muscular forearms. Opaline eyes shifted and swirled as he scanned me from head to toes, taking in the cotton pajamas with leaping bunnies printed on them.

"I wanted to make sure that you were okay," he said.

Was it a real question? He had healed me, traveled along my skin like it was his own fingers and knew every cell. "Yes."

"I will take this to Wiley," he said, drawn to the thick cape between my fingers.

"It is muddy. I will have it laundered first."