When he arrived at the Roman bath, which had already been heated by the servants to a pleasantly hot temperature, he removed his regal red satin robe and handed it to Baobhan Sith, who wore an unreadable expression, betraying little of her emotions.
He then submerged himself into the water, feeling the soothing warmth envelop his body.
The water carried the aromatic scent of rosemary and herbs, a fragrance befitting royalty.
He relished the experience, leisurely soaking as Baobhan Sith stood faithfully by his side.
It was unusual for her not to throw a tantrum; her loyalty toward Morgan and Morgan's influence over her were evidently strong enough to keep her from sabotaging her plan, which conveniently aligned with his own designs to break her.
He intended to mold this bratty woman into his desired shape, and the thought alone made his cock throb with anticipation.
"Hmm...? What is your name? I think I deserve to know your name," he inquired, his tone casual yet commanding.
"Sith, my king. My name is Sith," she replied.
"Well, Sith, what are you waiting for? Isn't it your duty to clean your king?" Uther urged, his voice taking on a demanding edge.
Baobhan Sith rolled her eyes in annoyance at the old coot's imperious tone but nonetheless picked up the ointment mixed with oil and herbs.
With a reluctant hand, she began scrubbing it onto his body.
Despite the awkwardness of her actions, Uther didn't mind; he relished the sensation of her soft hands gliding over every part of his body.
As he stood up from the water, exposing his erect cock, she hesitated, staring at him for a moment before hastily finishing the task.
However, Uther grabbed her arm and glared at her with cold intensity.
"Do it properly," he commanded.
Though reluctant, she complied, scrubbing his erection more thoroughly this time, while Uther nodded in dark satisfaction.
Afterward, he submerged himself in the water once more, washing away the oil and herbs that had been applied to his body.
Once he was fully cleansed, Uther retrieved his regal red satin robe. Baobhan Sith, without needing to be told, assisted him in putting it on, not out of a newfound sense of duty but out of fear that failing to do so would only result in further degradation at his hands.
Uther, pleased with her submissiveness, offered a rare word of praise.
"I think you have a talent for this, Sith. How about becoming my concubine?"
"No!" she refused hastily, then quickly remembered her mission and corrected herself. "I don't think it's appropriate for a maid to be chosen as a concubine, King Uther."
"It's more inappropriate for a maid to refuse her king. You need to be punished, Sith," he whispered wickedly, his hand sliding to her breast.
Her face flushed with anger and embarrassment at the king's harassment, her eyes burning with a humiliated glare.
However, she decided to endure, lowering her gaze as the king's lecherous stare lingered on her chest.
"Follow me. I need you to pick the most suitable dress for me for the court," Uther commanded, nodding in satisfaction at her lack of resistance.
He walked confidently ahead, his gaze steady and calm, ready to embrace the bright future that awaited him, while Baobhan Sith trailed behind, following his lead.