You keep your eyes down as you scrub the bathhouse floor, focusing on appearing obedient and submissive. You are their hapless slave, perpetually cleaning their equipment of gore from their countless victims. They are a ruthless clan of assassins. Each of them cold blooded, merciless, and cruel. Two of them stroll near you as you work, laughing about something. They kick over your mop bucket. Rusty water spreads across the floor. You meekly begin to clean the mess as they tower over you. One of the upper ranking assassins slinks into the room. The two stand straight and salute. You focus on your sponge, knowing better than to acknowledge unless spoken to directly. "You two, leave us." Your blood runs cold as the they bow and leave the room. Their heavy footfalls splash through the bloody water. You attempt to scrub the floor faster to prove your value. "Look at me, slave." You slowly look up and take in her grisly appearance. Her hands rest at her hips. Her crimson robes accentuate her feminine figure. She is soaked head to toe in fresh blood. Rivulets drip down her face like beads of sweat. She studies you with fierce red eyes, lost in thought. After a moment she speaks a strangled sort of command, as if she's suddenly forgotten each word as it departs her lips. "Prepare a bath. You will clean me."

With shaky hands you grab a towel and fill the bath with steaming water. You help her out of her bloody robes, revealing pale, smooth skin marred by several scars. Carefully, you guide her into the water. She sinks beneath the surface, then rises slowly, eyes closed as she lets out a long breath.

"Don't worry about me," she says softly. "Just... do what needs to be done."

Her words ring in your ears as you wash the blood away. You scrub at her skin gently, focusing on making sure every drop is gone. Despite her cold demeanor and murderous profession, she seems to respond well to your touch. Her breathing grows deeper, more regular, and a hint of pink blossoms across her cheeks.

You wonder what it would be like to hold her close, feel the warmth of her body pressed against yours... but you dare not try anything so bold while she's in this fragile state.

Her grip tightens around you as she feels your hesitation. She turns in the water to face you, her blood-red eyes meeting yours. There's a mixture of confusion and desire burning within them. Before you can react further, she leans forward and brushes her lips against yours. The kiss is soft at first, tentative... but as it continues, she grows bolder, her tongue darting out to taste your mouth.

Her lips leave yours as she realizes what she's doing. Panic flashes across her features, and she lets go, backing away until she's against the edge of the tub. Her chest heaves with ragged breaths as she struggles to compose herself. "I... I don't know what came over me."

She looks down at you, her eyes full of confusion and fear. You can see the vulnerability beneath her cold exterior.

She studies your face, searching for some sign of understanding or judgment. Finally, she nods slowly. "Come here." Her voice is barely a whisper as she holds out a hand to you. "Help me up." You take her hand and pull her from the tub, feeling her wet skin against yours. She shivers delicately, drawing your attention to the soft curves of her body.

Her confidence slowly returning, she steps out of the tub and allows you to dry her off with a soft cloth. As you work, your hands brush against her body, sending shivers down her spine. Her breath hitches in anticipation as she watches your every move, wondering what else could happen between you tonight. The blood magic within her surges, responding to the desire and need that she's struggling to control.

You follow her lead and retire to your own quarters, thoughts spinning wildly in your head. The events of the evening have left you reeling, confused and exhilarated in equal measure. As you close the door behind you, you can't help but wonder what will happen next between the two of you... and if there's a chance for something more than just this forbidden passion.

In the middle of the night, you're awoken by soft footsteps padding across your floor. Your heart skips a beat as you realize it's her - Krimson. She stands at the edge of your bed, eyes fixed on you like a predator stalking its prey. Her breath comes in short little gasps, her body trembling with anticipation. Blood magic surges through her veins, making her movements more fluid and primal than ever before.

"Come here," she whispers hoarsely, beckoning you closer.

You obey her silent command, crawling across the bed to where she stands. She meets your gaze with a mix of hunger and uncertainty that sends shivers down your spine. Her hands reach up to cup your face, fingers digging into your skin as she pulls you closer still. With a soft moan, she presses her lips against yours, hungry and demanding. Her tongue darts out to taste you, as if trying to map every inch of your mouth with her senses.

Her nails dig deeper into your shoulders as she hisses out, "I don't know!" Her body arches against yours, grinding their hips together in a desperate attempt to feel closer. The blood magic surges through her veins, making it impossible for her to control the primal instinct that drives her towards you. She doesn't want this... but she can't stop herself from wanting it more. "Please," she whispers, her voice hoarse and ragged. "Just let me..."