131 iv. Sweet Torture

Dominus was clearly not in a condition to drive because of the tarot card reading.

As if to emphasize this, she came out of the shower with her hair dripping wet. And yet he did not so much as stir.

"Dominus," she walked near him and hugged him from behind.

He was staring at the window, left in deep thoughts. Unusually silent and intolerably brooding.

"My queen," he whispered. His voice sounded apologetic as he turned and kissed her hair.

He carried her into their bed and let her down gently. Sitting her on his lap as he took the towel from her.

"Let me dry your hair, my queen," he whispered.

She let him without any protest and sat still on his lap as he proceeded to dry her hair with the towel.

"Are you sure you will be comfortable sleeping here, my love?" he asked, as if he would still insist to drive her home if she so much as showed him any sign of discomfort at being here.