Soap Virgin #3
“Amaris is a den of vipers, but they are superficial, shallow vipers,” Esme said. “Clean clothes will go far.”
Balthazar took the stack from her, staring hard at how white the pants were.
“Are these new clothes?” he asked, holding up a red shirt in front of him. It had gold embroidery running down the front lapels and even a little design on the cuffs.
“Got them last time we stopped,” Esme said with a shrug. “They’re not much but you’ll look like you fit in a little more.”
“I’ve never had new clothes.” Balthazar’s eyes danced down the pressed seam in the pants. Esme didn’t think he’d ever seen one before.
“You should bathe before you wear them, though,” Urias cut in, scrunching his nose.
“I don’t smell like anything,” Balthazar said, definitely smelling like something.
Esme chuckled, leaning on her hand so she got closer to him. “You’re trying to be king, Balthazar. A king bathes.” She threw him a little bag and he just barely caught it. He peeked in and his face wrinkled.
“What is that?” he asked, pulling the drawstring at the top closed. “It reeks.”
“Soap,” Esme said. “It smells like lavender.”
“Huh.” Balthazar opened the bag again and stuck his nose in. “I guess it’s not the worst.”
“Strange man,” Esme said to him.
Balthazar smiled and stood, clothing and soap clutched in his arms. “I’m going to go show this to Maranna. She likes strong smells,” he said, then took a small step backward, fire throwing soft light onto his warm, tanned skin. “Thank you, Esme. I hope to wrestle you soon.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t hope for that, Balthazar,” Esme drawled over her shoulder. The general winked before jogging over to his group. Maranna made a delighted noise at the smell of soap. So, one of them had a working nose, at least.
When he was far enough away, Urias flicked Esme’s ear. “Stop staring at the attractive human,” he said. “You have one at home.”
“Maybe I’m starting a collection,” Esme said, turning back to the fire.
* * *
The rest of the ride to Amaris was short, but they set off early to present Bal during the morning prayer session Isobel had apparently been hosting. Esme just wanted to see her attempt to pray.
For a few hours, Esme and Urias traded flasks, not needing to be especially sober today, and chatted. Yes, Prelyn was nice; yes, they should go back again; no, they would not open a fighting pit near it.
But soon, the blood-soaked city was upon them.
It dawned from over one of the rolling western hills, and Esme sighed.
Unfortunately, Amaris did exactly what Omniel had designed it to do: it dazed.
A giant walled labyrinth with a crimson-and-smoke palace lording high over the chaos.
There was no city like this one, not in this world or the next.
It wasn’t Magic that knotted the stomach when one first set eyes on Amaris; it was terrifying, devouring wonder.
“Valos alive,” Balthazar breathed, stopping on the hill beside Esme and Urias and gaping at the city. “How do you even live in that place?”
Esme snorted, glancing over at him as she scratched Inra. “It’s a bitch to get out of,” she complained. “But it’s home, General Balthazar.”
Balthazar’s breath tripped out when she said his name. He put a hand through his now-washed hair. “Please, Bal is more than fine.”
“Calling you by a nickname might show favoritism, General,” Esme said.
Balthazar hummed, wearing that small, cocky smile from last night. “Well, we are already planning our wrestling match.”
Esme tried to flatten her grin. Urias, disliking moments he wasn’t a part of, cleared his throat. “We should get going. Don’t want to miss seeing Isobel grovel to a cloud.” And he was off down the hill. Esme followed, not giving Bal a second look.
“Don’t get attached,” Urias said. “He probably won’t even survive if he doesn’t win.” He threw a look behind him to where Bal and his soldiers were oohing at the city still.
“My dear Ryukyhn, are you jealous?” Esme cooed, leaning over to pinch his cheek. “Aw, I’m looking at another man and you’re feeling dejected, aren’t you?”
“No,” he said, twisting his mouth. He licked his lips. “Esme, if he wins, he’s king. He’s the man we must bend to without question. Are you sure you want to share a bed with that man, even once?”
The words doused her with ice water.
“We said we’d have to control him,” she said.
“I remember what happened with Omniel,” Urias said so low that barely Esme heard. Neither liked to think about what happened with Omniel. “I just don’t want to see something happen to you again.”
Esme turned from him. “I’ll be more careful,” she finally whispered.
“I didn’t say that you weren’t careful,” Urias said. “You weren’t the problem.”
That hung between them for the entire ride down the hill to Amaris’s western gate. Esme exhaled heavily. At least this endless bout of running up and down the country was done and she could lie down in a real bed.
They cantered up to the guards standing post before the iron bars and Esme waved a hand as a signal for them to open the gate.
Instead, an arrow tore a hole in Inra’s shadow ear.