On a rooftop, adorned with wide hieroglyphics etched pillars on one side, a lavish rectangular bath was dug out, now filled with clear water. The Sunlight, wanting to touch every corner of the roof, struck the pillars, scattering its rays in hazy slits over the bath shielded by the pillars.

Lorenzo would anytime ditch a jacuzzi for this ancient wonder of a bath, as he lay immersed in it. Resting his arms by the little stairs leading down the waters, he glanced up at the blue sky, closing his eyes in a sigh. Soft winds blew his hairs.

So this is the royal life... he thought amusedly when water mixed with milk and olive oil was poured carefully on his head as he lay resting in the giant bathtub. The milk dissolved slowly with the rose petals filled water, creating a cloudy hue.

He spread his arms on both sides and the maidservants in attendance quickly stood up on either side of his arms that had gained quite some muscles since the past one year.

"Massage them," he ordered and closed his eyes, resting his head back as the maidservants started their work.

Suddenly, he felt the familiar itch across his torso that he'd been feeling since last week and jerked his hands off. The maids quacked in fear.

"Leave!" he ordered, and they hurried away at his command.

Checking every corner of the giant roof that was apparently turned into a lavish bath area, he made sure no one was around and leapt out of the bathtub.

He strode to the cistern kept at the corner of the bath, picked it and poured all the water down his head.

"Damn man, if I keep using milk, I'll become softo-jello like a freaking feminine body," he huffed, scrubbing off the milky remnants off him.

Finding two more cisterns, he emptied its content as well.

But a sudden itch started at an unreachable part of his back, and he yelped maniacally, dropping the cistern.

His hands tried to reach for the itch, but he looked no less than a cat trying to catch its tail, rotating and rotating in vain.

"Fuck! I told her I'm allergic to olive oil!" he backed towards the granular walls and rubbed his back to ease a bit, clawing at his arms that had also begun to itch.

Finding temporary relief, he pressed a thumb on his wrist and ringed a specific someone.

"Donut, hey donut you there?"

Painful whines and groans filled his receiver. It seemed there were many people crying out in pain that made him wince at the aching voices.

"Yeah, Loren wassup?" Dunkin's voice came into his head.

"Where the heck are you man? Don't tell it's a battlefield. If you'd die, how will I eat that Donut brain you've got?"

"Pst Loren, quit becoming a softo-jello, 'kay? You're sounding like a damsel," and Lorenzo's eyes widened in surprise.

That milk is really making me a softy. He cringed.

"Now will you spit out where have you stuck your ass into?"

After a little hassle from his side, Dunkin replied, "I'm attending a funeral."

"Funeral? Uh anyway, I told this maid not to add olive oil in my bath, but guess what? She's the greatest dumbhead I've come across.

"Now tell me how should I remove this shitty oil off my body," Lorenzo grumbled as the itch started spreading its evil waves once more over him.

But Dunkin was distracted again. "What?! Large intestines? Yeah, there, keep them in that orange jar. Place the kidneys in the black one! Don't prolong the mummification process!

"Use soap," he returned on the line and replied without a thought.

"There isn't a fucking soap!" the warrior screeched.

"Oh sorry, my bad. There must be a pumice stone then. Ash coloured thingy as light as a catch ball. Try removing the grease by scrubbing it."

"Ohhh at last," Lorenzo sighed in relief, rubbing the stone on his arms he had grabbed from the side. The scratchings changed his skin to a reddish shade.

"So got any news what's Aarmen up to? He's not responding to my calls. Much like when he would ground himself during exams," Dunkin asked.

"He's on his way to becoming Prodigy 2.0," Lorenzo snickered.

"Actually, he found another one like him."

"Welp, who is that?" he asked.

"Euclid," Lorenzo replied.

"What?! Euclid?" Dunkin asked baffled, "that mathematician?"

"Yeah, what's so surprising Donut? Euclid lives in this century only." he backed away from the wall he was leaning on and took a linen cloth from the side rack to wipe himself.

"If you ever get a call from Aarmen, just tell him to say at least one cuss word to Sir Eu.

"All hail that forgetful geometrical formula he made, I never got a hundred in math. You know father's dream," he drawled out.

"Loose nut, that was the only formula I remembered," Lorenzo chuckled.

He was about to speak further when his eyes landed on the girl who was hellbent on teasing him since the time he had stepped foot in this fortress.

Stepping onto the lavish bathing roof, she made sure the warrior's eyes were locked on her.

Pretending to be unaware of his gaze, she went behind the curtains and removed her clothes. Coming out only in a translucent linen sheet that covered her from chest to toe.

She walked tantalisingly, making subtly enticing gestures with her eyes as she chose the path opposite to where Lorenzo stood, and lowered herself into the grand bath.

Once immersed in it, she unwrapped the cloth, flailed her dainty arms across the bath stairs, and threw her head back to sigh contentedly.

Lorenzo wrapped the linen towel around his shoulders and tilted his head, shamelessly watching her chest heave up and down.

A little more and she would be giving him a show.

"Fuck off," he grunted at the itching tease.