A Fey's Mistake
Steam curled loosely into the air of the large marble bathroom. A subtle mix of sandalwood, lavender, and bergamot hung above the softly rippling water. The tub, sculpted of smooth stone, shone in the soft glow of floating magic-lamps, whose golden light cast shifting shapes across Leon's naked chest.
He sat immersed to his collarbone, stretched-out limbs under the surface, his head leaned back against the chilled rim of the tub.
The water was just a little too warm—just as he liked it. The warmth nipped at his exhausted muscles, leisurely unwinding the knot of tension knotted in his shoulders and spine from the long, action-packed day.
