Dreven released a long, put-upon sigh as he reclined into the hands of the servant behind him. He knew absolutely nothing about any of them — why would he? Mortals were hardly worth cataloguing. The humans employed in his castle were all sad little creatures who’d been foolish enough to fall into debt with his ancestors. Their misfortune, his convenience.

The girl currently washing his hair was at least competent, her fingers working a pleasant rhythm over his scalp. He allowed himself to melt lazily into her touch… right up until a sharp knock echoed against the enormous bathroom door.

Dreven groaned loudly, batting the servant’s hands away as if she’d personally offended him. He straightened with clear irritation.

“Yes, yes, come in if you must,” he drawled, rolling his eyes as he rose from the bath. Water trailed down his pale skin as he reached for a crimson robe, shrugging it over his frame with dramatic resignation.