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Captured And Ravaged By The Vikings | Elle London
“Elizabeth, it’s time to get up,” a soft feminine voice spoke from behind the bedroom door. The woman knocked, and walked away. Elizabeth begrudgingly opened her eyes, and sat up in her bed. Her lady maid woke her up every day at the same time, six o’clock in the morning. She stretched her arms behind her back, and stood up. She walked up to the desk, where a basin of water awaited her. She reached her hands inside of it and splashed the water on her face. She needed to look awake when her lady maid came back into the room. She looked down and saw her reflection amongst the ripples. Her thick black hair curled down her chest, and stark green eyes looked back at her. She looked at her chest in disappointment. She never had much in the breast department, much to her dismay. She was more well-endowed in the back. Someone had to like that, right?
She heard another persistent knock, and knew that her alone time was over. “Miss Elizabeth? I’m coming in,” the same soft feminine voice from before asked. A greying woman entered the room, carrying the dress Elizabeth was to wear that day. It was blood red, with fine stitching along the bottom. “Good morning, Miss. Let’s get you ready, shall we?” The woman put the dress on the bed, and led Elizabeth into the bathroom. A tub recently filled with hot water awaited her, and her lady maid helped her undress. The flimsy white gown she wore to bed slid down her body, pooling on the floor. She walked into the tub, and enjoyed the way the hot water felt against her pale skin. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, Miss. Call me if you need anything else,” her lady maid said as she walked out of the door. “Thank you, Elaine,” Elizabeth answered.
Elizabeth was the daughter of the rich and powerful Duke of Saxton, and had never gone a day without someone serving her in her life. It was wonderful, of course, never to have to worry about anything. But the lack of privacy grated her nerves at times. Her baths were her true moments of solitude, and she took full advantage of them. She let herself slide down the side of the tub until only her face remained above the water. If only she could stay here, enveloped in the warmth and protection of the water. Nobody could bother her here; here she was the mistress of her own life. It was a rare, but cherished feeling.