The Devil's Warrior Queen
Chapter 63: Choose Your Words Wisely

Chapter 63: Choose Your Words Wisely

"Did you try to dagger my heart in my sleep, feisty princess?"

His low husky voice whisked its way into her ears in a guttural sense. It was seductive and at the same time filled with menace, which made it seem even more dangerous.

She gulped ever slowly, trying to maintain a neutral face as she parted her lips open to speak, while blocking her intrusive thoughts from spilling the truth in her head before it was voiced out.

She knew not to act in the bit nervous because it would give him just the answer he was looking for, but when he leaned closer and his red eyes were peering right into hers, she shivered at the piercing coldness and dispassion emitted from his souless eyes.

"That’s a blatant accusation, If I wanted to, I wouldn’t have tried, I’d have done it." She stated with a slightly high pitched voice, but his predatory aura made her almost shift her feet back, even though he wasn’t doing anything other than staring.

He examined her with a predator’s unwavering attention and only hummed dryly in response. She realized he wasn’t that gullible to be fooled by her, he knew better.

She bit the bottom of her lip as she averted her gaze from his. She tried to say something to free herself from whatever implication she was in, but he beat her to it as he cast her a skeptical eye.

"Prepare my bath. Make it warm." He ordered as he stood straight, hands shoved into his pocket.

She wondered why he didn’t react even when it was apparent he knew the truth, it didn’t seem as if he had any plans of punishing her, maybe he punished with evidence and not his primal instincts.

She shrugged it off, he didn’t punish her and that was that, or maybe he would punish her when he was fully recovered.

Her intrusive thoughts ran into various directions as she prepared his bath, but it was stimulated about to forget about his presence in the room, as he stood fixed to the position he was in, with his cold gaze fixated on the anxious woman preparing his bath.

She stood a good distance away from him after she was done preparing his bath, as if he was a predator that would pounce on her if she was in close proximity.

"Your bath is ready." At the middle of her sentence, he was already taking off the rest of his buttons on his shirt.

Her lashes fluttered as she tore her gaze from his body, squirming in unease as she shifted her feet nervously, wondering whether to exit his chambers or not, but if he started taking off his pants, she’d undoubtedly bolt through those doors.

She heard the huffing of his feet dragging lazily across the marble floor, he stopped in front of her and her gaze darted uncontrollably to fall on his hard chest.

Black weblike veins intersecting over his pale skin, but his fetching features didn’t diminish still, rather it earned an ethereal contrast to his looks.

Her gaze dropped lower to his flawlessly carved abs covering his torso, her intrusive inner mind wanted to count but she smacked it and averted her gaze from his body, but it dropped on his muscular arms instead, with black veins stretching over it.

He didn’t look sick, he looked like an alluring devil.

He leaned his face close to hers, whispering into her ears in a low husky voice, with his lips brushing it with a feathery touch "I’m too sick to take care of myself, I might pass out in the water."

His hot breath fanning her skin and his lips brushing it emitted a tingling sensation in her skin. She backed away with agitated movements, most of his words not fully processing into her skull until she composed herself.

He nonchalantly proceeded into the bath and she waited a few minutes, until she was sure he was already dipped in, to avoid running into him naked before she moved into the bath, but still her mind was in a slight haze.

She walked in to meet him already fully dipped and she sighed inwardly, as she moved toward the edge of the large tub filled with steamy water.

She took hold of the basin and scrub, soaking the scrub in soap before gently scrubbing on his skin with gentle circular motions, he closed his eyes shut while she was busy, leaving them in awkward silence.

He suddenly grabbed her wrist, although it wasn’t hard and it was loose. He opened his eyes, locking her gaze like a magnet before saying "I’m poisoned, my skin’s not disintegrating. I won’t die if you scrub any harder."

She nodded and he let go of her wrist before closing his eyes, while she continued, applying a little more pressure as she realized he was right. But the fact that he thought she was been gentle on him because of the poison made her roll her eyes.

She was done scrubbing his body, she wondered if she should wash his face, she had to if she was giving him a face bath or maybe he didn’t want a face bath? Her intrusive thoughts pondered.

"Wash my face." His husky voice broke her out of her trance, but his eyes were still closed. She nodded silently even though he wasn’t seeing her, before hovering her hands in front of his face, hesitating slightly before touching him.

She firstly pushed aside the dark strands of hair away from his face, and tucked it behind his ears, to reveal his distinct facial features, every inch carved to perfection. His eyes were still closed and she sighed inwardly.

She scrubbed his face gently and washed it with water, after she was done she hovered her hand above his hair, wondering whether to wash it or not.

"Wash my hair." His husky voice rang in her ear and she nodded before applying soap on his hair. She dug her fingers into his thick strands of hair and washed it gently, she avoided riling him up since he didn’t punish her even though he knew the truth.

She wasn’t stupid enough to rile him up again and face his punishment even though she so badly wanted to plunge his head into the water and drown him.

He groaned softly in satisfaction, as her fingers massaged his scalp and she rolled her eyes, a grunt almost escaping her lips but she stifled it before it could escape.

She was done washing his hair and she was undoubtedly sure she heard a grunt of displeaure leave his lips. He dipped his head into the water and rinsed it before plunging his head out, pushing his wet hair backward.

He abruptly emerged out of the tub and Rama hysterically veered around as she looked away.

Did he have to be so shameless?

She waited with a grunt of frustration until he exited the bath before coming out into the room, but he wasn’t caught to her sight.

She stood around in the middle of the room for a few minutes before she caught sight of him emerging from his dressing room, clad in a silky robe with pants underneath but no shoes.

His hair was still dripping wet but he had a towel in his hand which he tossed to her before sitting on the chair in front of the dressing mirror with eyes closed shut.

She rolled her eyes behind his back before approaching him with the towel. She rubbed the towel on his hair a little harder than normal, but he didn’t react in opposition or give a groan of satisfaction.

He was being too quiet and sober than usual, she realized he was either angry or disturbed. He was probably disturbed by the witches gaining power from the devil, but it was also safe to assume he was possibly just in a weakened state from the poison.

His crimson red eyes shot open, piercing his souless gaze into hers from beneath his dark thick lashes, as their gazes locked like a magnet.

She averted her gaze and continued rubbing the towel on his silky hair that made her envious.

"It’s annoying when you do that." He said with a lazy growl and she shot her eyes skeptically at him into his reflection in the mirror, wondering what she had done wrong.

"Can’t you stop thinking for one second? Your thoughts are louder than your mouth. I’d rather you spoke." He said in a lazy tone, a grunt of frustration reverberating beneath his breath.

She stopped cleaning his hair as it was already absorbed of water and took hold of a brush lying on the table. As much as she hated to admit, she liked his hair and at the same time, she wanted to burn it.

Was it envy or was it the fact that she hated him so much, she couldn’t admire something about him without desiring to destroy it?

"You’d rather I spoke, my lord?" She drawled sarcastically with an alien voice erupting from her lips. It was airy and euphonious, like a sing song sound.

She cleared her throat, feeling cringe and awkward after eliciting an alien voice from within her, only to irk him, but rather he was perplexed as his brow arced with a sarcastic smirk playing on his lips.

He didn’t reply, but since he asked for it.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Silence ensued and his cold gaze flickered pass her reflection on the mirror before he spoke "Choose your words wisely."

She licked her dry lips hesitantly, wondering whether it was a yes or a fatal no, but it seemed to be a dangerous yes.

"When the witch spoke about the devil, did she mean Lucifer?" She blurted out, but his stoic countenance didn’t alter.

"What other devil are you familiar with?" He asked sarcastically.

"Other than Lucifer, you." She replied firmly.

He smirked devilishly with the corner of his lips curving up, eyes glinting darkly before he replied "Then you’ve got your answer, feisty princess."