Morning light gently sipped into her chamber, casting soft, diffused rays onto her face. Anchhi stretched lazily, her body still recovering from the exhaustion of the previous night.
Her eyes fluttered open, the sight that greeted her was not the calm of her empty chamber, but Shuo Jin—sitting casually in the chair by her bedside. He wasn't looking anywhere else but at her, his dark eyes holding a steady, penetrating gaze as if he had been watching her for some time. His posture was relaxed, one hand resting lazily on the armrest, the other propping his chin.
Anchhi gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in surprise. She sat up abruptly, her heart pounding in her chest. "What… what are you doing here?" she blurted, her voice barely a whisper as she tried to steady herself.
Shuo Jin didn't answer immediately. Instead, a small, almost amused smile curled on his lips, and he let the silence stretch, letting her discomfort linger. "Good morning, Young Miss," he said finally, his voice low and deliberate, each word lazily drawn out. He was clearly enjoying the effect his presence had on her.
Her face flushed with embarrassment, her mind scrambling for composure. She had not expected to wake up to him, of all people, in her room. She fumbled for words, still shaken from the sight of him so casually invading her space. "You can't just… sit in my room like that. It's... improper!" she stammered.
Shuo Jin leaned back in his chair, unaffected by her protests. "Improper?" he mused, his tone lightly mocking. "If I recall, you were quite proper last night, tending to me so dutifully while I was drunk." His smile deepened, and her breath caught as she realized what he was refering to.
Anchhi clenched her fists under the covers, her embarrassment quickly morphing into frustration. He had the audacity to bring up last night after she had gone out of her way to help him in his drunken state. "That's not the same," she muttered under her breath, her cheeks still flushed. "And you were a mess last night. You should be thanking me, not invading my room."
But Shuo Jin didn't seem interested in her indignation. Instead, he waved off her protest with a casual flick of his hand. "I'll thank you properly later. For now..." He stood up slowly, stretching as if the entire morning had been nothing more than a leisurely affair for him. "I need a bath."
He strolled over to the window, glancing briefly outside before returning his gaze to her. "Prepare me a warm bath, will you? Fetch water from the river, boil it, and make it comfortable for me." His tone was lazy, as if he was requesting something as simple as a cup of tea.
Anchhi blinked, momentarily stunned. "What?" she exclaimed, her voice rising in disbelief. "Fetch water from the river? That's ten minutes away!"
Shuo Jin turned to her, a faint smile playing on his lips, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he found her reaction amusing. "Yes, the river. I'm sure you remember where it is."
Her pulse quickened, anger bubbling to the surface. "You can't be serious," she shot back, sitting up straighter in bed, her eyes narrowing. "I'm not your servant!"
For a moment, Shuo Jin said nothing, simply stared at her. Then, he took a slow deliberate step toward her, his gaze never leaving hers. "No, you're not," he agreed softly, the faintest hint of a smirk still tugging at his lips. "But you are my pupil. And as my pupil, you are to obey your master, are you not?"
Anchhi felt her stomach drop. He was using their master-pupil bond against her. Her fists tightened around the blanket, frustration coursing through her. She wanted to refuse, to tell him off for being so absurdly entitled, but the weight of his words settled heavily on her shoulders.
She bit her lip. He was pushing her buttons, clearly testing her patience, and she hated how trapped she felt in this moment. She could feel the heat of his gaze, the authority that lingered in his every word. "I…" Anchhi started, her voice faltering.
Shuo Jin raised an eyebrow, waiting patiently for her response. "Yes?" His voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable challenge in it.
Finally, she exhaled sharply, glaring at him. "Fine," she snapped, her voice filled with reluctance. "I'll fetch your water, Master. But don't think for a second that I'll forget this." She threw the blanket off, standing up with an indignant huff, and hurriedly grabbed her cloak.
His smirk only widened, clearly satisfied with her compliance. "Good girl," he remarked softly as she stormed past him, making her way out the door.
Left with little choice, Anchhi grabbed two wooden buckets and stormed outside. The cool morning air did nothing to calm her fury as she stomped down the path leading to the river, cursing him every step of the way. "I save him from his own drunkenness, and this is what I get in return? He's showing his true colors now." She scowled, kicking at a loose pebble.
She couldn't believe him. Ungrateful, arrogant brat, she cursed under her breath as she stomped toward the river. This was how he planned to repay her for taking care of him last night? By making her haul buckets of water like a servant? He hadn't even thanked her properly for last night, and now he was ordering her to fetch water like some lowly servant.
Yet, beneath her emotions, there was something else—something that lingered in the way he had looked at her, the casual intimacy of his presence in her room. The heat rising to her cheeks once more as she thought about it. He had been watching her, waiting for her to wake up, as if he wanted to see her reaction. It unsettled her, confused her, and though she tried to push the feeling away, it stayed with her like a stubborn mess.
The river came into view, its gentle currents mocking her rage. Anchhi knelt down to fill the buckets. Her reflection stared back at her in the clear water, and she paused, taking a deep breath. "What kind of mess have I gotten myself into?" she muttered, shaking her head and filled the buckets with water. But no matter how much she complained, the task had to be done. So, she hefted the buckets and trudged back to the manor, her arms aching with the effort.
Once she returned, Anchhi set the water to boil over the mud stove. As the water heated up, an idea sparked in her mind. A mischievous grin curled her lips.
"Oh, you want a bath, don't you?" she muttered under her breath, stirring the water slowly. The thought of him relaxing in the water, expecting comfort, only to be met with an unbearable itch filled her with satisfaction.
Shuo jin had told her to add herbs to the bathwater, herbs that would soothe and relax him. But Anchhi had other plans. Instead of the calming herbs, she added a concoction that would make his skin itch.
A soft chuckle escaped her as she rummaged through the herbs, picking out the ones that would give him quite the surprise. "Weren't you the one preaching about master and pupil?" she whispered to herself, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Well, let's see what this pupil has in store for her oh-so-wise master."
With nimble fingers, she mixed the concoction—to cause a maddening itch that would last hours. The image of Shuo Jin, always so composed, twitching and scratching, she felt almost giddy at the thought of his reaction.
She glanced at the boiling water, her lips curving into a sly smile as she poured the mixture into the wooden bathtub. "Let's see how relaxed you feel after this, my dear master."