Playing With Fire Read Online Free PDF Page A

entirely lost.
    Patin finally opened a door to a room with a huge copper tub, filled with steaming water. “Here we are! Hop in.”
    Oh. Oh, a bath. A bath . Hot water, soap. Clean . He was so dirty. It had been days since he’d washed, and he’d been in that dingy dungeon for most of it.
    He pulled off his makeshift robe and stepped into the roasting water, moaning as he sank down into it. Patin grabbed a sweet-smelling soap and began washing him, Patin’s touch gentle, careful. Wintras nearly told Patin this wasn’t necessary, but the boy’s sweet touch made him feel less alone. So he said nothing, just sighed happily as the dirt was washed away.
    His hair was cleaned and scrubbed, rinsed, the tangles gently worked out. He closed his eyes and moaned. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so pampered. Patin began to sing, the sound happy and sweet, the mood becoming relaxed and easy. He hummed along, falling into a doze. He was allowed to luxuriate, to rest, his hair carefully brushed and braided.
    He had to remind himself that Zujan was his captor. A user. His enemy.
    Finally one little hand stroked his shoulder. “You need to dress. It’s almost time.”
    “Thank you, Patin.” He got out of the water and let Patin dry him, the towel soft as if it were silk.
    He wondered what exactly Zujan would consider proper attire for him. He was not going to be happy in one of those little tunics that exposed him. Indeed, he was offered a tunic, short and brief, embroidered around the edge.
    “Where’s the rest of it?” he demanded. He was not going to attend Zujan with his privates hanging out.
    “The rest? This is all.” Patin held it up, the edge would just cover his buttocks. “It’s the right size.”
    “It needs to be longer. Or I need breeches to go with it.” He was not going to wear this and only this. He was not. Not.
    “Longer?” Patin tilted his head. “Too small? Fine. Yes. I’ll find a bigger one. Maybe.”
    “No maybe. I need a bigger one. Now. Right away. Before I have to go to this banquet with the master. Please, Patin.”
    Patin nodded, rummaging, digging around until a deep blue tunic was produced, long enough to cover him to mid-thigh.
    Wintras beamed at the boy. “Patin! You’re wonderful.” He put it on happily. “It’s perfect.”
    Patin beamed, eyes shining. “Good. We should go. The food will be ready.”
    He reached out to stroke Patin’s cheek. “Thank you.”
    The boy bounced and hugged him. “Oh, I do like you. I hope you’re happy here.”
    “I’ll be happy to spend time with you, Patin.” But that would be it.
    “Well, the master’s favorite is always very busy, but I’ll bathe you every day.”
    He was again led along one hallway after another. Master’s favorite. The words echoed in his head, making him dizzy. How could he be Zujan’s favorite? He hated the man, had made no effort to hide that fact.
    A set of huge doors appeared, and Patin stopped. “In there. Eat a pastry for me!”
    Wintras nodded, resisting hanging back, clinging to this wee lad. He lifted his head and pushed open the doors, walking in as if he were the Lord here.
    “Oh, you did find us! Welcome, pet, and help us send our dear prince off in style.” Zujan was lounging, dressed in pure white, pearls in his hair. Rall was dressed in the greatest finery, looking small and unsure and scared.
    “I’m not yours. And I would prefer you didn’t call me your pet.” He went and sat on the other side of Rall, refusing to look at Zujan.
    “Now, now. You promised to submit, sweet pet. Play nicely.”
    The table was loaded with food—roast and roots and pastries.
    “I agreed to submit, not to become yours. And I am playing nice—although I should have said please. Please do not call me your pet.” He still didn’t look at Zujan, instead he focused on the food, his stomach growling. It had been so long since he’d had a good meal.
    “Eat. Eat, my dear ones.” Zujan’s laugh