Reincarnated into a Femdom Fantasy World (18+)-Chapter 28: Let it slip

Jake's head lolled against the edge of the oak tub, the warm water lapping at his bare skin, his breath slow and even as he drifted in a hazy slumber, the cedar-scented steam curling around him like a gentle embrace.

Maraith stood by the door, her voluptuous frame still in her black maid's uniform, her glasses glinting faintly in the torchlight as she watched him, her serious face unchanging.

His soft snores filled the quiet, and she stepped forward, her boots silent on the river-stone floor, her curvy hands reaching for a towel—only to let it slip from her grasp, the fabric pooling uselessly as she bent down, sliding her arms beneath him.

She lifted him effortlessly, his naked body slick and warm against her, his head resting against her ample chest, his damp hair brushing her neck. He was bare, vulnerable, soundly asleep, and she studied his face—his features softened in repose, a boyish cuteness tugging at something unspoken within her, though her expression remained a stoic mask.

She didn't bother with the towel, carrying him through the halls, his weight light in her strong arms, his skin cool now against her uniform's stiff fabric.

The chamber door creaked open, and she laid him gently on the massive bed, the silk sheets whispering as she tucked a thick blanket around him, cocooning his naked body in warmth.

She straightened, her glasses catching the dim light, and felt her own eyelids droop, a rare heaviness settling over her—hours of standing watch, the night's vigil, pulling at her energy.

A yawn threatened, but she stifled it, stepping back from Jake's sleeping form.

"Enough of that," she murmured, her voice a low hum, and raised her hands, a faint glow shimmering from her fingertips—soft gold, like sunlight through leaves.

She touched her temples, the glow pulsing briefly, a subtle vibration buzzing through her skull before her dark eyes snapped wide, sharp and alert, her exhaustion banished as if midday sun burned within her.

Magic, simple and practical, to guard her Master through the night, ensuring no harm came to him as he slept, defenseless and unaware.

Morning broke over Valthera, a gentle flush of gold spilling through the window, the early sunshine painting the dark silk walls with faint warmth.

Jake stirred, the blanket slipping from his chest as he blinked awake, his body surprisingly light, free of the ache he'd expected after yesterday's gauntlet—Rixa's relentless staff training, the bruising intensity of Lyssa and Evadne's night-long claim on him.

His muscles should've screamed, his stamina drained, yet he felt... renewed, as if the exhaustion had melted away overnight. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, the sheets cool against his bare skin, and puzzled it out.

The bath, he thought, glancing at the window, the memory of that long soak flickering back. That water—it's got to be something in it, healing me up like this. No way I'd recover this fast otherwise.

The view outside caught his eye—rolling emerald hills stretching beyond the castle, wildflowers nodding in the breeze, the distant shimmer of a river winding through the valley, all bathed in the soft, early light.

Also, how did I end up here?

He turned, spotting Maraith standing steady by the wall, her curvy frame as still as ever, her glasses glinting as she met his gaze. "Good morning, Master," she said, her voice clipped and formal, a slight bow tilting her head. "I hope you slept well."

"Morning," Jake replied, nodding back, his voice rough with sleep as he swung his legs over the bed's edge, the blanket pooling around his waist. "Yeah, I did—thanks. You too?" He paused, then added, "And, don't tell me you were standing like that the entire night."

Maraith's lips twitched, the barest hint of a response, before she answered, "Thank you, Master, for your concern." Her tone stayed even, her dark eyes steady behind her glasses. "I didn't sleep."

Jake blinked, his brow furrowing as he stood, tugging the blanket around him like a makeshift robe. "You didn't? Why not? Weren't you tired—aren't you sleepy now?"

She shook her head, a small, precise motion, her bun of dark hair unmoving. "No need to fret, Master. I used a spell to remove my drowsiness—keeps me alert to watch over you."

Jake tilted his head, curiosity flickering. "That's it? Just... no sleep, just magic? Don't you miss it—sleeping, I mean?" His voice carried a genuine wonder, the idea of skipping rest entirely alien to him, a piece of Valthera's strangeness sinking in deeper.

Maraith's expression didn't shift, her glasses catching the sunlight as she replied, "It's sufficient, Master. Duty comes first." Her words were final, a door closing on the topic, and Jake let it drop, his mind shifting to the weightier question gnawing at him.

"What about Ssyra—and the others? Rixa, Tsyra, Lyra, Veyra—did they get her back yet?" he asked, stepping closer to the window, the morning air cool against his face as he peered out, half-expecting to see them riding up the hill.

Maraith followed, her boots silent on the floor, stopping a pace behind him. "They haven't returned yet, Master," she said, her voice steady, offering nothing more.

Jake turned, his hazel eyes searching her impassive face. "Do you know what happened? Are they okay—did the plan work?" His tone edged with worry, his ambush idea replaying in his mind, the stakes of it tightening his chest.

"I don't have that information, Master," she replied, her curvy hands still clasped, her glasses glinting as she met his gaze. "No word has come." Her neutrality was a wall, and Jake sighed, the uncertainty lingering like a shadow.

Maraith tilted her head slightly, her voice breaking the quiet. "Would you like a morning walk, Master? The fresh air might do you good." Her suggestion was practical, her tone unchanged, but it sparked something in him—a chance to step beyond these walls, to see Valthera beyond the courtyard's confines.

"Yeah," Jake nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips, the idea of freedom, even brief, lifting his spirits. "Let's do that." He glanced down at his gray tunic and pants from yesterday, rumpled but intact on a chair, and shrugged them on, the fabric soft against his skin, the blanket discarded as Maraith waited, her curvy silhouette poised by the door.

She led him out, her steps measured, through the castle's winding halls—polished stone giving way to open archways, the scent of incense fading into crisp, dew-laden air as they emerged outside.

The castle sprawled around them, a fortress of dark granite and soaring towers, its walls veined with gold that caught the sunrise, its base ringed by a moat where water shimmered like liquid crystal, reflecting the sky.

Beyond the drawbridge, a cobblestone path wound through manicured gardens—hedges trimmed into spiraling shapes, beds of vibrant wildflowers in purples and reds, their petals glistening with morning dew, the faint hum of bees drifting through the air.

To the west, the training courtyard lay quiet, its packed earth scuffed from Rixa's lessons, the wooden racks of staffs and blades glinting faintly in the light.

They walked further, the path curving around the castle's northern flank, where the land sloped into a grassy meadow dotted with ancient oaks, their gnarled branches heavy with moss, the ground soft under Jake's bare feet.

A breeze rustled through, carrying the earthy tang of soil and the distant call of those iridescent birds, their wings flashing like stained glass against the pale sky.

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The castle loomed behind them, its shadow stretching long and dark, but out here, the world felt open—wild hills rolling into the horizon, the river's silver thread winding far below,

Jake breathed deep, the fresh air clearing his head, the morning sun warming his face as he glanced at Maraith, her steady presence beside him, her glasses catching the light, her expression as still as ever.