"Ahh!" Rhynera cried out, her voice echoing off the stone chamber walls as the stiff bristle brush scraped over her tender skin.
Her breath hitched and her body trembled with each stroke, her skin already raw from countless scrubbings.
"It… it hurts," she whimpered, clutching the edge of the golden bathing spring as her knees nearly buckled.
The hour was unbearably early and there was no light in the sky yet. In Celestial terms, it was the Hour of Silent Moons, what Drakonians called the "Third Flame" of the night when dragons slept with one eye open, and no mercy stirred in the wind.
But mercy did not belong in this chamber, Rhynera who wakes up whenever she feels like is forced to wake up at this time just so she could get ready for her first feast in the Drakonis realm.
The lady in charge of bathing her barely paused hearing her cries. "My lady, you are to become the Crown Princess of the Drakonia," she said firmly.
