Chapter 19: Bathing Means Getting Naked and Close, Right?

Rita had imagined Cecilia’s “bathing together” as an intimate scene—two beautiful girls squeezed into a tub, accidentally brushing against each other.

When she followed the maid to the bathhouse—no, bath palace—she realized it could fit twenty people, not just two.

Steam rose from a massive stone pool. Polished marble floors gleamed darkly. Baskets of bath products sat ready on stone benches.

No need to guess—this empty bath palace was prepared solely for Cecilia.

Damn rich people!

Rita’s past baths were either crowded public ones or a bucket of hot water for a few coppers at an inn. A place this lavish? She’d never even dreamed of it.

“You may leave. Don’t come in,” Cecilia ordered. The maid nodded, retreating and closing the door.

Cecilia turned to Rita, as if waiting.

Rita stared back, innocent and confused.

Cecilia sighed, enunciating each word clearly. “Help me undress.”

“Huh? Oh…” Though certain only she and Cecilia were in the room, Rita glanced around, nodded stiffly, and approached.

Cecilia, reading Rita’s hesitation, turned her back. “Start with my hair.”

Rita raised her hand, fingers trembling. Removing a hairpiece, usually simple, now felt impossibly clumsy.

Her fingertips brushed Cecilia’s hair. Though not her first time touching it, the sensation of golden strands flowing like a stream made her throat bob.

“Cecilia, wasn’t the maid who led us here meant to help you bathe?” Rita asked, partly curious, partly to drown out the ambiguous sound of trickling water.

“Yes,” Cecilia replied casually.

“Then why me?”

“Because you’re my person.”

Her person—such an ambiguous, misleading phrase.

Rita didn’t respond. Her hands parted Cecilia’s golden hair, revealing a slender neck under the moonlight, translucent like honey. The soft dip of her collarbone and faint blue veins beneath porcelain skin stood out.

So provocative! Just a normal sight, yet somehow so provocative!

Rita’s breathing quickened, her hands pausing. “But I don’t know how.”

“No one’s born knowing everything. I’ll teach you myself.” Cecilia remained composed. “Keep moving.”

Rita untied the ribbon at Cecilia’s neck. Her knuckles grazed cold skin, freezing the quip about “teaching” in her mind.

“You’ll see and learn more by my side,” Cecilia said, brushing off Rita’s inexperience, raising her arms to let the dress slip off.

With a soft click, the ties came undone, and Cecilia’s undergarments fell to the floor.

From behind, Rita couldn’t see much, but the curve of Cecilia’s spine, like a sand dune swept by northern winds, made her face burn.

“Why me?”

The same question, different intent.

“I’ve answered before, Rita. I hope you remember what I said.”

Was she referring to their first meeting, when Cecilia called her a brave, clueless nobody with no employer?

“I still don’t get why you trust me so much.” Rita crouched, pulling the last layer of fabric to Cecilia’s knees.

“I don’t trust you, just as you have no loyalty to me. You want power, money. Luckily, my money can buy all your time, and my offer’s higher than others’.”

Cecilia stepped out of the fabric, gathered her hair, and turned to face Rita.

“Especially when I don’t know how much time I have left.”

Rita’s mind blanked, overwhelmed by the sight.

It’s all out!

A petite chest, a waist so delicate it seemed pushable, and intricate, glowing patterns below her collarbone.

Wait, do Princesses have silver crests too? Though the placement seems off.

No! Doesn’t this Princess know shame?!

Well, maybe not—her slightly bitten lip, trembling fingers, and faint flush suggested otherwise.

Cecilia was shy, facing her like this.

Last time Rita misunderstood “be my person,” Cecilia’s reaction was amusing too.

Rita genuinely feared Cecilia’s aura, but seeing her feign calm while flustered was honestly adorable.

Cecilia shot Rita a look. “Fold my clothes neatly, put them in the basket, and give them to the launderer. And—are you waiting for me to undress you?”

Bathing the Princess

Helping Cecilia bathe wasn’t as complex as Rita feared. She learned quickly.

Wet Cecilia’s body with a bucket of hot water, apply scented bath oils to her hair and skin, then rinse—much like a normal bath.

The hardest part wasn’t the variety of oils for different areas, but applying them.

Though the purpose differed, touching Cecilia’s body directly made Rita shy.

She got scolded plenty that night.

“Put in some effort.”

“You missed the inner thighs. Are you this timid with your clients?”

“Ugh… don’t be so crude. I’m not your client!”

Soon, Rita went from shy to exasperated.

So much work!

She wanted to dunk Cecilia in the water, give her a good ○, then spread her wings and flee.

Nah, just a thought—she didn’t have the guts.

Slap.

Cecilia flicked her foot, kicking Rita’s rear.

“You stopped. Are you badmouthing me in your head?”

“No, no!” Rita shook her head, massaging Cecilia’s ribs with a lifeless expression.

“Then what were you thinking?” Cecilia pressed.

“Nothing.” Rita grasped at an obvious excuse. “Just thinking the… pattern on your chest is kind of unique.”

The moment she spoke, Cecilia’s body trembled violently.

Her gaze changed—cold, angry, unfamiliar, and… fearful.

“Rita.”

Cecilia scrambled up from the plush blanket, retreating quickly to a corner, away from Rita.

“What… are you?”