Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
T he room beyond fell silent as Thea stepped inside, clutching her meagre belongings to her chest. There were at least twelve beds, maybe more and men in various states of undress as she walked in.
‘What’s she doing here?’ someone shouted.
‘You’ve got to be joking,’ said another.
‘I didn’t ask for this either,’ Thea replied tersely. ‘Is there a spare bed?’
A man she didn’t recognise pointed to the far end of the room, where a narrow bed sat beneath a large window.
No doubt the coldest corner of the dormitory. ‘Great,’ she muttered.
‘You know, love… Maybe you should rethink what you want.’ The shieldbearer was an older one, his attitude hardly surprising.
‘To be a warrior is all I’ve ever wanted,’ Thea replied, her chin raised.
‘You’ll never get that far.’
Thea hoisted her belongings up and turned to make her way to her corner. ‘There’s only one way to find out.’
Behind her, the man sighed. ‘You don’t belong here.’
Ignoring the angry stares of the others, she crossed the room and claimed the bed, cursing the guild master for his cruelty.
Sharing quarters with the shieldbearers was completely unnecessary to her training and she would have had to be a fool if she didn’t realise the risk it posed to her.
But she saw it for what it was: one of no doubt many tactics to get her to quit. And she wasn’t about to do that.
Another young man entered from a chamber to the right, and Thea realised with a renewed sense of dread that it must be the bathing chambers… Which she needed desperately.
‘The guild master asked me to remind everyone about the strict no fraternising rules,’ he said loudly.
Thea nearly groaned. Nothing fostered action like prohibition. Her skin crawled as eyes roamed over her.
‘What’s all the noise about?’ a familiar voice sounded. Cal walked in from the bathing room, a towel slung around his waist, his chest bare.
‘Look who moved in,’ someone pointed at her.
Cal started. ‘Thea? Don’t tell me.’
‘I’m to receive the complete shieldbearer experience, it seems.’
‘Fuck.’ Cal rubbed the back of his head.
‘My thoughts exactly,’ she replied.
Thea wanted to ask him where the closest female baths were, but she clamped her mouth shut. Cal, and Kipp, wherever he was, had already stuck their necks out for her at dinner. She couldn’t ask them to continue to do so and jeopardise their own positions in the ranks.
Reluctantly, the men went about preparing for bed and Thea was forced to stare out the window into the pitch black beyond to allow them to change in some semblance of privacy, though she got the feeling not all of them would repay the favour.
The thought of sliding under her sheets in her filthy travelling clothes made her cringe, so she sat cross-legged atop the thin quilt, training her gaze on the yellow orb of the moon.
Slowly, candles were blown out one by one and Thea found herself grateful for one thing: apparently Sebastos Barlowe did not share this dormitory.
Small mercies , she thought, her fingers moving to toy with her fate stone absent-mindedly.
When the room was all but pitch-black, she heard someone padding towards her and she froze. Not for the first time, she wished she still had her dagger, and she sent a silent curse to the thieving Warsword wherever he was.
‘Psst,’ a voice said.
‘Cal?’ she whispered.
He didn’t touch her, but she could see his outline nodding in the faint light. ‘Kipp said to tell you… Wait til it’s late,’ he told her. ‘Then you can sneak out and use the masters’ baths down the hall. It’s the last door on the left.’
Thea was glad it was dark, because a surge of tears welled up behind her eyelids. She reached out, aiming to clasp his forearm in gratitude, but instead groped the air beside him. It was probably for the best.
‘Thank you,’ she said softly. ‘Truly.’
‘No problem. It looks like we’re gonna be spending a fair bit of time with you. Can’t have you stinking up the fortress.’
Thea held in a laugh. ‘How can I —’
‘Shhh… None of that. It’s the way of things here. Eventually, everyone finds someone to have their back.’
Thea suppressed the overwhelming urge to embrace the shadowy figure. Perhaps she would survive the dormitories yet.
‘Thank you,’ she said again.
‘You didn’t hear it from me, or Kipp. If you’re caught.’
‘Course not.’
‘Then I’ll bid you goodnight.’
Thea stopped herself from thanking him a third time and simply watched as his outline disappeared down the room to his own bed.
Then, she began the long wait into the night.
Hours had passed, and the air was thick with snoring of various volumes and other…
noises. It was like being housed with a bunch of animals.
Thea did her best to tally the distinct sounds to the number of men.
When she was almost certain they were asleep, she gathered her things and tip-toed to the door.
She winced as it creaked open and shed a beam of light into the dorm, but she was too far out now. Making quick work of it, she was out in the hallway in under a minute. She paused on the other side, waiting for her inevitable discovery.
Either they were all asleep, or those who weren’t didn’t care.
Both suited her.
Clutching the sack with her clothes in it, she crept down the passageway, following Cal’s instructions to the last door on the left. She held her breath as she pushed it open, praying there would be no one within.
There wasn’t, and she almost cried with relief.
It was a far more luxurious bathing room than she was used to.
Glowing torchlight illuminated mosaic tiles along the walls, depicting the legendary cyrens from the lands beyond the veil.
Beautiful women with waist length hair in clinging wet shifts were detailed amidst the waves.
Audra had spoken of their kind before, creatures who with a single song could reduce a man to a pile of bones. Thea had always liked that.
Thea gazed upon the art in wonder, hardly daring to imagine what else lay beyond those towering walls of mist across the seas.
She moved further into the bathing quarters to find several large wooden half in-ground tubs dotted around the tiled floor.
Cauldrons of simmering water were also placed around the room on small stoves, along with a number of privacy screens.
‘Thank the gods,’ Thea murmured, moving towards the bath furthest from the door and setting her belongings down on a bench by a stack of clean towels.
She set about preparing the tub, pouring steaming water from a cauldron, and adding several buckets of cold water so she didn’t scald herself.
There was a little shelf nearby that housed countless bottles and soaps and Thea took her time selecting a scent she liked.
She brought it to her nose and inhaled deeply…
Rosewood . Warmth flooded through her as recent memories came rushing to the surface, her chest fluttering —
‘What are you doing?’ she muttered to herself, practically throwing the bottle back on the shelf and picking another at random.
This stops now , she decided. She was here for one reason and one reason only. Wilder Hawthorne did not factor into it, nor would he ever.
At last, she dragged a privacy screen in front of her tub and surveyed her handiwork. Ribbons of steam drifted up from the water and the aroma from the soap was near-intoxicating. She couldn’t wait any longer. She was dying to feel clean, properly clean.
Thea peeled the Warsword’s shirt from her body, cursing the fact that she’d have to have it laundered and returned to him.
She unbound her braid and made quick work of her boots, trousers and undergarments before approaching the edge of the tub.
The only thing she didn’t remove was her fate stone.
The piece of jade was her constant companion, a permanent reminder that death always walked beside her.
Tentatively, she dipped her toes in the water and let out a soft cry. It was hot, but that was how she liked it. Slowly, she stepped down into the bath, easing her body in and wincing against the initial heat.
At last, she gave a deep, gratifying sigh, and submerged herself.
The warmth soaked into her aching muscles; both the ride and the sparring match had taken a toll on her and she sent silent thanks to Kipp and Cal for telling her about this place.
Finally, she could wash the grime from her skin and the dust from her hair; nothing had ever felt so satisfying.
She ran the soap through her long tresses, inhaling the rich scent of lilies, though it didn’t smell as good as —
She pushed the thought aside in favour of ducking under the water again.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had the luxury of an uninterrupted hour to herself like this, nor the indulgence of a tub this large and water this hot.
As Thea floated, the world outside faded and she considered all that had happened over the last week.
She had left Thezmarr and seen Harenth and its capital for herself, something few women of the fortress got to experience.
She had ridden alongside a Warsword… And met the rulers of the midrealms. She had felt their magic, their power, wrap around her.
And she’d saved King Artos’ life… A fact that seemed so distant now.
Only to return to Thezmarr to be runt of the shieldbearers —
‘What the fuck are you doing?’ a familiar voice cut through the serenity.
Thea’s eyes flew open to see Hawthorne looking down at her, his lips parted at the sight of her wet, naked body.
She jolted in the water, scrambling to scoop as many bubbles in front of her as possible. But he’d seen. He’d seen everything .
‘What the fuck are you doing?’ she bit back, cheeks flushing. ‘It’s called a fucking privacy screen.’
‘I called out. Twice.’
‘So?’
His usual brutal glare was hooded as his gaze explored the tub. ‘All the masters and commanders are with the Guild Master…’ He took a measured breath, his eyes lowering to her lips, her collarbone. ‘No one else is supposed to be in here.’
A flush of warmth that had nothing to do with the temperature of the water spread through Thea’s body, her skin suddenly sensitive to the cool air that kissed the nape of her neck and her exposed shoulders.
‘At least have the decency to turn around,’ she snapped, her heart pounding.
‘Sorry,’ he mumbled and started to move away.
But Thea’s whole body had come alive, and his hesitation emboldened her. She knew she hadn’t imagined the connection between them on their journey; the lingering looks or the heat in their accidental touches.
A shiver of anticipation rushed through her as she rose above the water level, soap sluicing down her breasts and abdomen, her wet hair plastered to her skin. ‘Are you?’ she challenged. ‘Sorry?’
Hawthorne turned back to face her and this time he openly drank in the sight: her swollen breasts and her nipples hardening under his stare, the curve of her hips and the rest still hidden by the water.
‘No,’ his deep voice rumbled, sending a rush of longing through her, right to the ache between her legs.
A small sound escaped her as she, too, surveyed him: the hard set of his jaw, the tension in his broad shoulders, the sweep of his chest and lower… the undeniable bulge in his pants.
Beneath the water, Thea’s thighs parted, every inch of her singing out to him.
Hawthorne was deadly still, making no move to hide his desire, before at last he spoke again.
‘The Furies know I’m not sorry to see you like this,’ he said, his hooded gaze travelling up her exposed skin once more to linger on her face.
‘But as much as I want…’ he trailed off, running a hand through his hair. ‘I have to go.’
Thea exhaled shakily, all the tension holding her body taut vanishing as she watched him snatch something from a nearby shelf and go.
With a mortified groan, she wrapped her arms around herself and ducked back under the water, hoping it would wash away the stain of her embarrassment.