Vex doesn't interrogate how gratifying it is to have someone respond to her with such naked desire. The way Percy's jaw hangs open for just a moment sends a thrill through her in a way she's sure wouldn't be flattering to disclose—a man who's lived on bread and water for a year might look at a roast beef with that kind of disbelief and hunger, and she's almost disappointed when he closes his mouth before she can shut it for him.

Instead, she demonstrates that she's not especially bothered by the dirt that melts off of him as she works the soap across his shoulders and upper back. (The smell, on the other hand, Vex reserves the right to be dainty about. Luckily the warm water and toiletries, along with his previous dunking, go a long way to dispelling that.)

"Of course, darling. I wasn't going to let you get away without returning the attention." She couldn't be flirting more blatantly if she tried.

"But right now, we're taking care of you. Now—" She puts a hand on his upper arm, physically urging him to turn his back toward her. "Let me get your hair."