Stay, but try not to look

Stewart really has his doubts about staying in the room while Adella bathes, but he really doesn’t have many other options. If he leaves the room, he will no doubt be subjected to more mystifying conversation without the benefit of her oral — that is to say translation — skills.

“I’m already starting to think like a Nymphite,” he says to himself.

“Alright,” he replies to his sister. “Go ahead and prepare yourself for the event. I shall give you as much privacy as possible. Whatever you do, let’s leave this part out of our official reports; such matters would not be understood back home.”

“You have become such a prude since inheriting the Crown, little brother,” says Adella, stepping to the tub and turning on the water. “It wasn’t so long ago I had to pull my curtains tightly shut at night to prevent you from watching me as I undress.”

“That was Duncan’s idea,” responds Stewart. “And Mother should have known better than to get him a telescope for his birthday. As if he was going to point that thing to the skies!”

When he realizes Adella is beginning to undress, he hastily turns his back and makes his way to the bed to sit down. “If I didn’t know better,” he thinks, “I’d swear my sister is flirting with me! She seems so casual about undressing and bathing here in the same room with me, and the way she has been talking since our arrival is not like her at all!” He shakes his head, dismissing the thoughts as being affected by the erotic-sounding Nymphite language.

“I didn’t see any evidence of Duncan forcing you to look through that telescope, though,” she continues. “Did you like what you saw?”

“What is she doing?” he asks himself. “Is she trying to get me turned on?”

“Well, you closed your curtains pretty early on,” he says. “And right after that, we caught a glimpse into another window, and that pretty much cured us of any voyueristic tendencies.”

“Oh? Whose window was it?”

The gentle splashing of water tells Duncan that his sister is stepping into the water. He tries not to imagine what her naked form must look like as it slowly descends into the warm, soapy water.

“It was the guest quarters, and they were being occupied by the Marquess of DeFluefe.”

“The Marquess? I don’t remember her.”

“You wouldn’t forget her if you saw her naked,” says the king with a shudder. “The woman was massive! Without the restraints of her corset, she resembled a multitude of enormous pancakes, draped carelessly over a gourd!”

Stewart hears Adella’s laughter from behind him. He tries to focus on the decidedly-non-erotic memory of the Marquess, rather than imagining his sister running a sponge all over her glistening, sensuous contours.

“So she was rather plump?” asks Adella?

“No, a hippopotamus is plump. The Marquess was massive. She had so many folds of skin that Duncan said her husband probably had to roll her around in flour and aim for the white spot, just to know the general area to aim for during sex.”

Adella laughs again, but Stewart winces. Even in trying to avoid thinking about arousing things, he somehow managed to bring up the topic of sex.

“So that cured you of any desire to steal a look at naked women?” she asks, playfully. “So I guess I don’t have to worry about covering up while sharing this room with you, do I?”

Stewart feels his mouth go dry, and he struggles to come up with a funny, dismissive reply. On the nightstand, next to a book, he sees a pitcher of water and some glasses. He pours himself a drink, and curses his inability to keep his hands from shaking.

“Well, I believe I’m done with my bath, Brother Dear,” Adella says. Stewart hears the sound of her rising from the tub, and can picture the water droplets running between her breasts before continuing down toward her snatch.

“Are you cured enough of your voyuerism that you can handle helping me get dressed?”

Stewart’s heart is pounding so hard that he is not entirely sure he heard her properly.