Eras raised his brows at the man when he explained he was used to more bathing attendants. Like he wouldn’t be enough, which he found a little amusing as a senior slave to a man of significant position. He usually found that for him others just got in his way. Preferred to work one on one and solitary.<br/><br/>“Your attendants do not sound competent. Or was that simply a preference of yours? You’ll find here that a single well trained slave can do the job of many. I will keep this in mind though when arranging the staff assigned to this wing.” It would be Eras’ job to see the foreigners needs fulfilled and for the staff to perform at peak function. Eras was smiling, finding this man curious as he finally turned to look at him. He stepped forward to help him out of his clothing, efficient and professional. It gave way to a sculpted and marked body, deliberate. Ink beneath the skin. It wasn’t a custom common in Dusan. He knew some of the significance they held to the Acrosian people but for now, didn’t ask the Lieutenant personally.<br/><br/>Once Zyliel was undressed and stepping into the bath, Eras followed suit. Silk fell away to reveal toned muscles, but that of a dancer, not that of a warrior. Long legs and strong thighs. Still masculine but trim, adding to it with his height. He didn’t waste time with any of his usual tactics, getting the feeling this man was interested in getting himself cleaned up and attending to matters of business. He crossed to a basket where he grabbed a rough sea sponge and a vial of scented oil. A few drops added to the water, one to the sponge and Eras approached Zyliel again. Approached from his front so that he could get an idea of what he was doing should their practices be different, making his movements predictable. Eras brought the sponge up his arm and followed it along with his hand, trailing lines of muscle. A bath was as much about relaxation as it was cleanliness. Eras didn’t think one was more important than the other and so he tended to both, hands used to the process. He hardly had to think about it. Touch was as common as breathing among Dusanians.<br/><br/>“Are there any requests you’d like me to pass along for this evening's festivities?” Eras asked as he moved on to scrubbing the man’s chest. His eyes were following what he was doing but he looked Zyliel in the face when he asked him a question. Habit. Another job of his would be to make sure these foreigners personal needs were met and accommodated. That was getting a feel and learning just as much without the direct questions as he was with them. Reading body language, looking for expressions of approval or displeasure.