Chapter 45 Massage Mayhem: A Night Of Nervous Hands And Racing Hearts

• It was well past midnight, the inn was quiet save for the occasional creak of old wood and the gentle whisper of the wind outside. Mixarnt stood stiffly in the hallway, right outside Aelries’s door, clutching a small bottle of scented massage oil like it was a holy artifact.
• His heart thudded wildly.
• “I can’t believe this is actually happening…” he muttered under his breath, staring at the door like it was about to sprout fangs. “She asked me... me! To give her a massage. Since when does she ask for that kind of thing? What if it’s a trap? Maybe she’s playing some weird good cop/bad cop thing on me…” He groaned, rubbing his forehead. “Gods, I really don’t get women.”