Agree to a sponge bath

"A sponge bath would probably be safer," you say, barely able to keep your eyes open. "Will it take long to heat the water?"

"Mercy, no! This is the royal palace," Orro says, hurrying past you into the bathroom. "The water is always hot. Let me get the water and I'll help you out of your clothes, Sir."

“Oh, I know how to get undressed,” you say.

Orro gives you a disappointed look. “It is a handmaid’s duty to see to the needs of the lady--er, the person she serves. It is a source of pride and a great responsibility. The other handmaids will ridicule me if you don’t allow me to assist you.”

“Sorry, Orro,” you say. “This is all very strange to me. I’m just a poor farmer.”

“Not anymore, Sir,” Orro says with a small smile. “Mercy, you are the future of the kingdom.”

She leaves you to let that sink in. The future of the kingdom. You can almost feel the weight upon your shoulders. You don’t know much about being the Vessel—it is a responsibility you never thought you’d have—but you do know one thing: if you cannot produce a male heir, the kingdom will be torn apart by war.

You watch as she turns a shiny brass knob and steaming water begins to pour from the spigot. She fills a porcelain basin and grabs a wash cloth off the shelf before carrying everything out to the dressing table. She regards you shyly, twisting the wash cloth in her hands before dropping it into the steaming water. She steps closer, her breasts pressing against the stiff material of her uniform as she reaches out and takes the hem of your tunic in her hands.