Grabbing the razor, I carefully glide it over my legs. I grimace as I still manage to nick myself, a thin trickle of blood making its way down the bare trail I’ve left in the forest that somehow managed to cover my body in such a short amount of time.
Sighing, I turn around to look for a place to prop my leg up for easier access, only to nearly jump out of my skin as the floor beneath my foot begins to rise to do just that.
I’m starting to think smart showers might be a bittoo, well, smart. I don’t even want to imagine what might happen to someone trapped in here if it were to suddenly malfunction.
This is enough for me to make quick work of the rest of the rest of my legs, not forgetting my toes, before moving on to my armpits. I’m kind of impressed by how hairy I’ve gotten, and almost sad to see my little friends go.
Almost.
Turning to place the razor back in the hidden shower caddy, a torrent of icy water suddenly blasts down on me. I glare up at the ceiling through squinted eyes as the droplets pelt my face.
“What now?” I groan.
I look down at the razor again as a shiver works its way through my body and goosebumps ripple across my skin. Reaching for it, the water suddenly warms again.
I frown at the razor for a second before replacing it. Once again, the water turns chilly.
“I’m done shaving!”
Still, the shower doesn’t relent, and I hate the creeping feeling that thisdoesmean someone is watching me, even if it’s just the shower itself. It doesn’t take a genius to know what it wants as I glance down at the one place on my body I have that’s yet to be hairless.
“No, not going to happen,” I hiss, whirling around to stomp out of the icy shower, only to slam into a nearly invisible wall of glass.
I barely manage to keep myself from falling backwards on the wet floor before storming over to the other exits as quickly as I dare, but they’re blocked as well. I’m trapped inside until I do exactly what the shower—or more likely, what Valentine—demands of me.
I cross my arms over my chest in defiance, even as the water droplets suddenly turn to actual chunks of ice and another shiver racks my body.
Crap.
“Fine!” I shout through chattering teeth as I cross back over to the caddy and take the razor out again. “Just, please, stop with the freezing water before all the other hair grows back!”
Instantly, the ice stops and the water slowly begins to warm. It takes several minutes for me to stop shivering and the goosebumps to cease popping up in random waves before I can start shaving again.
It takes a lot more work and odd positioning of my body to remove years’ worth of privacy from ‘down there’ than I’d expected. Thankfully, miraculously, I manage to do it without nicking myself for a second time. I hate to admit that I kind of like how silky my whole body feels, but at the same time, I grimace at the fact that I’m more than a little exposed now.
Not to mention that I can’t think of a single good reason for Valentine wanting me shaved bare down there.
Placing the razor back in the panel along with the other bathing supplies, I brace myself for punishment, but this time there’s no blast of icy water.
I sigh in relief as I quickly finish the rest of my shower by rinsing out what little still remains of the conditioner. I make my way over to the nearest exit as the shower turns itself off. Reaching out, I’m grateful to find the glass has disappeared, and I’m no longer trapped inside.
As soon as I step through the doorway, however, I’m met with a blast of air from all sides that nearly startles the life out of me all over again. It does little to dry my wet hair, but I’m surprised to find my skin is only slightly damp as I hurry into the outer room and grab a towel to wrap around myself.
I take a moment to enjoy the warmth of the huge towel before heading back toward the main bedroom.
Just as Valentine said, there’s a fresh outfit lain out on the bed, along with a covered silver platter. Ignoring the clothes, I grab the platter’s cover and yank it off.
My stomach growls loudly as I take in the glass of juice and bowl of fresh berries as well as a large plate piled high with bacon, eggs, French toast, and hashbrowns. Without a second thought, I toss the cover aside and pounce on the food.
I nearly fall to pieces as I shovel in the first bite. I hadn’t realized just how hungry I was until this moment.
It isn’t until I’m almost halfway through the meal that I suddenly freeze in horror, the fork hovering between my mouth and the plate.
What if this is poisoned or drugged?
The fork clatters back to the plate as I scramble away from it, my eyes wide and my heart thumping in my chest.
Get a grip, Evelyn. Why would he poison you this early in the game?