The Golden Dragon's Princess

the bowl carved by the dragon and steam curled up in fragrant twists. He removed his clothing without embarrassment and stepped into

on him. I had not been wrong, I thought. The dragon’s reading and wine drinking companions bathed in the water. I watched out of the corner of my eye in voyeuristic f

king and removing the stubble from his face, before stepping out of the water and drying himself on a length of cloth that had been m

with the bolts and chests of cloth. When

sat upon his throne, ta

ne, his back to me, and showed no interest as I undressed and submerged into the water. It was hot enough to steal my breath and scented by the soaps and oils he had left floating

imbs as he had done before rinsing it back off. I dried on the slightly damp fabric he had left behind and dressed in the unfamiliar dress. Without t

d it, before using the comb yourself. Don’t braid it tightly, it will give me a headache.” He turne

in origin. I sat on the floor and spread the gilded and heavy silk of his hair out over my lap so I coul

laid the comb to the side and rose onto my knee

y, his voice quiet. Near sleep, I decided as my fingers worked their way through his hair, lulled by my fingers in his hair. It gave

n I was young, a maid showed me how to braid my doll’s hair. My favo

sed. “Unless they took the

the muscles of his arms stretching the fine fabric of his shirt, so that I could braid to the nape of his neck. Once I wove down a length of hair, he sat up, swingi

s clouded. When I reached the end, he tied it off with a

ire around the tail of my braid, his cheek close enough that if I inclined slig

, twisting it to break it off the body of the coil and tucking the two ends so they were invisible to the eye. He l

book and be