A slap on the arse woke Wishbone. He blinked in the sunlight of a strange room from between silken sheets. His body felt sore in places and most pleasantly used all over.
"We have a busy day ahead of us," said Sir, fully dressed, with just a hint of dampness in his mane. And he was indeed Sir again, not Senjian who had spread his buttocks for Wishbone's tongue last night. It wasn't just the clothes, but the manner, which Sir wore like an enveloping cloak. The intimacy was not gone, merely put away until Sir needed it.
"I'm taking you to the tailor, the cobbler, and the barber. We'll be moving you to one of the attic rooms. Oh, and I must hire another scullery boy. There's a robe for you here and a bath downstairs. Get up!"
When Wishbone didn't move, Sir pulled the blankets down. Freezing, Wishbone grabbed the robe.
"One more thing. You will no longer pleasure yourself without my leave."
"What?" Half-awake, Wishbone wondered if this was a punishment for his outright insubordination in bed the previous night.
"You will be a far more entertaining toy when denied release," said Sir.
"How would you even know if I did?" Wishbone demanded.
"You would lie to me?"
Wishbone considered. "I couldn't."
"Well then." The shih-aan smacked him again. "Go."
Terefar must have worn himself out hauling water for two baths. He looked out of breath, but he still made sure that the tray contained what had...