The man hesitated, caught off-guard. "...Yes?"
Neil gave a smile that was all teeth. "Good. Because I have questions, and I don't like slow answers."
The priests looked like they'd swallowed their tongues. The castellan stiffened, assessing him carefully.
The elder pressed a fist to his chest. "I am Verna, Head of the Church. You've been unconscious for six days following the Rite. We dared not move you. The castle has been at your disposal."
Neil glanced at the room. Silk curtains. Pillows embroidered with gold thread. The faint scent of lavender.
Not bad.
Verna continued, "We will begin your purification ceremonies today, after the welcome prayer. The High Priests are en route from the capital—"
"No," Neil interrupted.
All three of them froze.
"No?" Verna repeated slowly.
"I'm busy that day.." Neil said calmly as a small smile appeared on his face.
Verna's brow twitched. "But—"
The Saint's only job was to bless, heal and pray for the kingdom. What else could he possibly be doing.
Verna cleared his throat, clamping his hands together with a smile. "My lord saint. Perhaps you're still a bit confused. Maybe a spot of tea will clear your mind."
Neil hid a smile and sat down on the bed. He could see the maids arranging clothes for him but he was never a fan of white.
"Are those clothes for me? I don't really fancy white.."
Verna paused as his lips twitched, this saint was a rather picky one.
"My lord, the saints always wear white but we had a touch of colors once in a while for a new look.."
Neil gave him a look, one that screamed I'll believe it when I see it.
The castellan, who had stayed oddly quiet, finally spoke. "Shall I have the servants assist with your bath? The welcome prayer begins within the hour."
Neil smiled lazily and stretched, as if the entire world ran on his time. "Sure, I don't mind being bathe by beautiful women.."
-_-
-_-
-_-
WEREN'T SAINTS SUPPOSED TO BE WITHOUT MORTAL DESIRES?!
The bathing chamber looked like it had been pulled out of a fantasy. The tub was carved from polished stone, steam rising from scented water laced with petals and oils.
The maids bowed low as Neil entered, their hands folded with practiced grace.
He let the robe slip off his shoulders. "I'm sorry to show you all my manly parts. I'm a bit embarrassed myself.." he said smoothly.
The bathwater rippled as Neil sank into it, eyes half-lidded. Steam clung to his lashes while the maids began their work in silence.
At first, that is..
"…Your skin, my lord.." one finally murmured, fingers brushing over his shoulder with a soaked cloth, "it's almost translucent. Like moonlight through jade."
Neil tilted his head lazily to look at her. "Are you asking to peel it off and keep it?"
She flushed. "N-No, I meant—"
Another maid interrupted quickly, chuckling. "He means you're making it sound too precious."
Neil closed his eyes again. "Mm. Don't stop. I like being praised.."
The maids exchanged shy giggles as they continued. One carefully poured warm water over his chest, watching the droplets trail down his stomach.
"No scars.." she whispered, impressed. "Even with injuries, it's like his body rejects imperfection."
"You're all very loud for people who're supposed to be discreet.." Neil drawled, his voice lazy. "Should I start complimenting myself and save you the trouble?"
They laughed again, more freely this time.
"He doesn't deny it though.." one murmured, scrubbing gently. "He knows exactly how beautiful he is."
Neil smirked. "I'd be offended if you said otherwise."
After the bath, they guided him out and patted his skin dry with thick towels. As one tied the sash around his waist, her hands stilled.
"…Your build, my lord. How does someone look soft and dangerous at once?"
Neil gave her a glance, brow lifted. "Genetics. Or a very traumatic childhood. Maybe a bit of both.."
The eldest maid coughed. "Please, let's not tempt fate.." she muttered, reaching for the brush and hair oil.
As they began styling his damp hair, another maid murmured, "It's softer than anything I've touched. Truly the saint's body is extraordinary..."
"Poetic..darling." Neil said, voice dry. "Do you write in your spare time, or just rehearse flattery?"
She grinned. "I try my best to impress the lord.."
The others chuckled again, adjusting the silver ribbon and smoothing down his robe.
Once finished, they stepped back. Neil rose with slow grace, shaking his sleeves down with a fluid motion. His hair gleamed under the light, his robe a cascade of silk across his lean muscles.
The youngest maid clasped her hands to her chest. "If we had to present you to a god, I think even they'd be shy."
Neil paused, lips twitching. "Then I hope the god's got good taste."
And with that, he turned toward the door.
"Thank you ladies. May you find handsome husbands and if you already have, may he love and cherish you even more."
When the doors to the hallway opened, the castle staff, priests, and waiting nobles all turned.
The silence was sharp.
Neil descended the steps calmly. The servants' heads were bowed. Even Verna's composure slipped slightly.
"My lord saint.." Verna greeted with forced warmth. "You honor us with your presence."
"Of course I do..." Neil said, his tone pleasant. "Shall we take a walk?"
"A walk?" Verna echoed. "Ah—yes, yes. Though the Welcome Prayer is soon to—"
"You can tell me everything on the way. But I won't be participating in any rituals.." Neil said, his tone still casual, but final.
"But—" one of the younger priests started.
Neil gave him a glance. It wasn't cruel, but it was the look of someone not to be trifled with. "I'm not a puppet. If you need one that badly, I'm sure the Church can carve one out of wood and I'll bless it with oil."
He turned. "Now. Walk with me, won't you?"
Verna's jaw flexed. But in the end, he nodded. "As you wish… my lord."