Nyx leaned heavily on Nyami's arm as they made their way from the lavish bedroom toward the adjoining bathroom, his steps unsteady after the week's coma.
The corridor's marble floors gleamed under the soft glow of enchanted lanterns, but his focus was on the warmth of her body supporting him
Her slender frame surprisingly strong, her pink hair brushing against his shoulder with each careful movement.
Nyami's touch was gentle yet firm, a silent promise of devotion that both comforted and unsettled him in his weakened state.
"Easy now, Master," she murmured, her voice a soothing melody laced with that familiarity.
"The bathroom isn't far. Just lean on me, I won't let you fall."
He nodded, his black hair falling into his eyes, still disoriented from the awakening stirring within him. "Thanks, Nyami. I just feel weird like this... like a child who can't walk on his own."
She glanced at him, her elegant horns catching the light, a tender smile curving her lips.
"You're no child anymore, Master. Far from it. And even if you were, I'd carry you myself. It's my honor to care for you."
The bathroom door swung open with a soft creak, revealing a space of opulent serenity steam rising from a sunken marble tub fed by hot springs, shelves lined with scented oils and fluffy towels, and a low stool positioned near a basin for washing.
The air hummed with the faint scent of Florence and minerals, peak place relaxation.
Nyami guided him to the stool, easing him down before stepping back, her eyes scanning him with quiet assessment.
"Let's get you out of these robes, shall we?" she said, her fingers already working at the ties of his loose garment.
There was an eagerness in her movements, a subtle haste that Nyx hadn't seen before.
He watched, baffled, as the fabric slipped from his shoulders, exposing his bare chest and legs.
It had been years since she'd bathed him—back when he was eight, a kid splashing in the tub under her watchful eye. But this... this felt different, charged with an undercurrent he couldn't quite name.
"Nyami," he said, his voice a touch hesitant as the robe pooled at his feet, leaving him vulnerable.
"You've never been this... quick about it. Is everything alright?"
She paused, her hands lingering on the edge of the fabric, her gaze meeting his with a warmth that made his pulse quicken.
"Everything is more than alright, Master. You've been through so much— the ambush, the collapse, your awakening. I just want to make sure you're comfortable, that's all. No need to overthink it."
He wrapped a towel around his waist, the soft linen a meager shield against the cool air. Nyami straightened, and without a word, her fingers moved to the laces of her black maid's dress. The fabric whispered as it fell away, pooling at her feet like spilled ink.
Beneath, her black lace undergarments hugged her form with exquisite precision—delicate filigree tracing the elegant line of her collarbones, dipping low to outline the gentle swell of her breasts, the faint shadow of her nipples pressing against the sheer material.
Her skin glowed pale and smooth, leading down to a cute navel that begged to be traced, flaring out to hips that curved with lethal allure, her thighs toned and inviting, promising softness and strength in equal measure.
Nyx's breath caught, his eyes tracing the sensual landscape of her body before he could stop himself.
"Nyami... what are you doing?"
She reached behind her back, unclasping the bra with a fluid motion, letting it join the dress on the floor. Her breasts spilled free, full and pert, nipples hardening in the steamy air. Nyx's eyes widened, a flush creeping up his neck. "Do you really need to do that? I mean... the towel's fine for me."
"Of course I do, Master," she replied softly, her voice laced with affection as she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, sliding them down her legs with deliberate slowness.
The lace slid off her skin, revealing her most intimate folds.
"These would only get soaked while I tend to you. And I wouldn't want that—it's impractical, don't you think? Besides..."
She stepped out of the garment, standing bare before him, unashamed and radiant.
He averted his gaze, staring at the tiled floor, his heart pounding.
The vulnerability of the moment twisted something inside him—trust mingled with the raw pull of desire, her devotion laid bare like an offering.
Nyami noticed, her expression softening further. She stepped closer, her hand gently tilting his chin up until their eyes met.
"Master, please don't look away. You don't need to. I belong to you—every part of me, from my soul to the very inches of my skin. There's no shame in this, no boundary I won't cross for your comfort. Let me serve you as I was meant to."
Her words wrapped around him like a caress, stirring the emotional tether between them—the years of quiet loyalty, the unspoken bond forged in the shadows of royal life. Nyx swallowed, the weight of her surrender both humbling and intoxicating.
"Just... finish the bath already, Nyami. Let's get this over with."
She chuckled, a light, melodic sound that eased the tension in his shoulders.
"As you wish, Master." Grabbing a towel from the shelf, she draped it over her body, but it was comically short, barely reaching mid-thigh. The fabric strained against her curves, her pink folds peeking teasingly from below, and the upper edge gapped just enough to reveal the rosy edges of her areolae, her breasts threatening to escape with every breath.
Nyx sighed, shaking his head at her blatant advances, though a reluctant smile tugged at his lips.
The playfulness in her eyes spoke of deeper affection, a desire to draw him out of his shell, to connect on levels beyond duty.
He settled back on the stool, the wood cool against his skin, as she fetched a bar of scented soap and a basin of warm water.
Her hands began their work, lathering the soap between her palms before gliding over his shoulders, the suds trailing down his back in rivulets.
The touch was tender, exploratory—fingers kneading into tense muscles with a care that bordered on reverence.
"How does this feel, Master? Too firm?"
"It's... fine," he murmured, closing his eyes against the sensation. But as her hands ventured lower, tracing the line of his spine, a warmth stirred unbidden in his core. His body responded traitorously, his arousal hardening beneath the towel, pressing insistently against the fabric.
To distract himself from the electric path of her touch, he cleared his throat.
"Nyami, are there any books in the imperial library with real information about Goddess Nyxiana? Not the usual tales, but something... authentic."
She hummed thoughtfully, her hands pausing briefly on his lower back before resuming, the sound vibrating through her chest.
"The library does hold many volumes on her, Master, but most are glorified scripts—embellished stories to inspire the faithful. They contain truths, yes, but the truly vital details... those are often tempered, redacted to keep sacred knowledge from prying eyes. The royals guard such things closely, you know that."
"Tempered how?" he pressed, grateful for the shift in focus as her fingers worked the soap into his arms, the scent of lavender filling the air.
"Subtle omissions, altered interpretations," she explained, her voice steady despite the intimacy of their proximity. "Prophecies, rituals, the goddess's true nature—they're veiled to prevent misuse. But if you're seeking the unfiltered truth, there might be ways."
She moved in front of him then, refilling the basin and kneeling to wash his chest.
As she squatted, her towel rode up, exposing the glistening folds of her pussy fully—pink and inviting, a testament to her own arousal in the steamy room.
Nyx's gaze flicked downward involuntarily, drawn by the vulnerability she offered so freely, before he forced it away, heat flooding his cheeks.
"Can you get your hands on the real stuff for me?" he asked, his voice rougher than intended, clinging to the conversation like a lifeline.
Nyami's eyes sparkled with understanding, her hands gliding over his pectorals, thumbs brushing teasingly close to his nipples.
"I could try, Master—But honestly, it'd be better through Lady Leyina. As Elysiana's only disciple—the highest priestess of Nyxiana—Leyina has access to the church's vault. Restricted tomes, artifacts... all of it. She could help you."
He nodded, the idea settling in his mind amid the haze of sensation.
"I'll ask her when she comes back for dinner. Leyina's always been... Obsessed. She might agree if I frame it right."
"Wise choice," Nyami agreed, her tone approving as she rinsed the soap from his skin with a soft cloth, the warm water cascading in soothing waves.
But as she shifted lower, her hands trailing toward his abdomen, the towel tented unmistakably.
Nyami's gaze dropped, a knowing smile playing on her lips—she'd noticed it from the start, her earlier touches deliberate in their provocation.
With gentle insistence, she tugged the towel away, exposing his raging erection to the humid air.
Her fingers wrapped around the base, feather-light, tracing the sensitive tip with a single finger that sent sparks racing up his spine.
"Nyami, what are you—?" Nyx stammered, his body tensing, a mix of shock and yearning flooding him.
"Shh, Master," she whispered, her voice a silken command, eyes locking onto his with unwavering trust. "You've awakened. You know how it is with Evernight royal males have high desires, a fire that burns hot to compensate for the family's... lower fertility rates. It's natural, especially now. Let me help. I know exactly what I'm doing."
"But Leyina..." he protested weakly, the emotional pull of his fiancée's obsessive love clashing with the vulnerability of this moment.
Nyami cut him off gently, her thumb circling the head of his cock in slow, soothing strokes.
"Lady Leyina knows, Master. She understands—and she doesn't mind, not with me. We're both here for you, in our ways. Your awakening stirs everything; pent-up desires could destabilize your emotions, make the power volatile. Let me relieve it. Trust me please, as you always have."
Her words wove through him, affirming the connection they'd built over years—the maid who saw his every need, who offered herself without reservation.
The trust in her eyes, the tender vulnerability of her position, melted his resistance. It was transformative, this intimacy, bridging physical hunger with the deeper affection she harbored.
"Fine," he breathed, surrendering to the moment, his hand resting lightly on her pink hair.
Nyami's smile bloomed, full of loving mischief.
"Always, Master." Leaning forward, she parted her slightly moist lips, enveloping the tip of his erection in the warm cavern of her mouth.
The sensation was exquisite—soft suction, her tongue flicking delicately against the underside as she took him deeper, inch by inch.
She hummed in contentment, the vibration sending tremors through him.
Pulling back with a soft pop, she traced a languid line with her tongue from tip to base, savoring the taste of him, her free hand cupping his balls and massaging them with expert care—gentle rolls that built the pleasure without overwhelming.
Nyx groaned, his fingers tightening in her hair, the release as potent as the physical: her devotion laying bare in this act of service.
She inhaled deeply then, her breath hot against his skin, and something shifted in her eyes—pink hearts flickering like embers of mana, a sign of her own deepening arousal, her bond with him amplifying every touch.
"You taste like heaven, Master," she murmured against him, before descending again.
Her techniques varied with tender precision, swirling her tongue around the head in lazy circles, then hollowing her cheeks for deeper suction, alternating with shallow bobs that teased without mercy.
One hand stroked the shaft in rhythm, slick with her saliva, while the other continued its gentle knead on his sac. Nyx's breaths came ragged, the build-up slow and torturous, each sensation drawing him closer to the edge—vulnerability in his gasps, trust in the way he let her lead.
"Nyami... I—" he warned, his voice strained, hips bucking involuntarily.
"Let go," she encouraged, her words muffled around him, eyes never leaving his— a gaze of pure, affectionate control.
The climax hit like a wave, his release spilling into her mouth in hot pulses. Nyami took it all, swallowing greedily, then pulled back to open her mouth wide, showing him the pearly evidence on her tongue before tilting her head back and drinking it down with a satisfied sigh.
"All for you, Master," she whispered, leaning in to press a soft kiss to the softening length, her tongue darting out to clean every trace with loving laps.
Nyx slumped against the stool, strangely at peace, the emotional catharsis leaving him lighter.
Nyami rose gracefully, wrapping a fresh towel around him before donning her own discarded clothes with efficient poise.
"There now," she said, helping him to his feet. "Feeling better?"
"Yeah," he admitted, a smile breaking through. "Much. You were great Nyami."
She beamed, supporting him as they left the bathroom, the steam trailing behind like a veil over their shared secret.
"Always, Master. Now, rest until dinner. Leyina will be waiting."