Chapter 38 Dress for Success
~ brEN ~
It was disconcerting to wake up the next morning in my little stable room. It took moments of blinking to clear my sight and foggy mind, and remember everything that had happened.
The argument with Donavyn.
The reconciliation.
Benji, and my concerns about others looking for me.
Donavyn’s reassurance, and staying with me in this little bed and—
I sat up quickly. But there was no sign of Donavyn in the room, and the morning sun angled through a small crack in the door from the stable.
‘Akhane—’
‘Our mates were called out early, together. Donavyn begs your forgiveness. He wished to leave you to sleep. He worries you haven’t had enough rest. I agree with him, Bren.’
I sighed and shook my head. ‘I would have wanted to say goodbye.’
‘He says he’ll see you this evening—and to come to his apartment after dinner. He thinks you’ll both sleep better with more room.’
I hadn’t slept poorly. Quite the opposite, I remembered nothing since drifting off in his arms. But this was a narrow bed. Probably far more uncomfortable for him.
Shaking off the weariness I still felt despite the sleep, I got up and hurriedly washed again with the water in the basin.
I needed to bathe properly.
Thoughts of Donavyn’s bathing room called.
I gathered up my discarded leathers from the night before and heard the crinkle of paper in the pocket and was reminded of Benji’s note.
I needed to get to the Seamstresses today in case it was a question or fitting they needed.
But I hadn’t even finished buttoning the fresh pair of leathers that I always left in the drawers here, before a knock echoed in the stable.
‘Akhane?’
‘It’s a stranger. I haven’t tasted his scent before.’
The stable door was closed, so I hurriedly buttoned my jacket as I rushed out of the room, calling that I was coming to open the door.
A moment later, I heaved the sliding door aside to reveal a tall, very clean man in colorful livery, including a tabard that bore the king’s clawing lion embroidered in golden thread. He stood with his chin high and didn’t meet my eyes when I greeted him.
“I have a message for Furyknight, Brennan Kearney. Are you she?”
I stared at him a moment, stunned. “Yes. Yes, I’m Bren. Are—”
“The queen summons you with urgency. Please follow me.” He turned on his heel and began a brisk march down the aisle. A moment later, I hurried after him, reaching for Akhane in my mind.
‘Can you reach Ekko? I was supposed to patrol this morning, but the queen has summoned me and I can’t delay.’ I gritted my teeth sending that. I wanted Diaan’s help. But I hadn’t anticipated that she’d keep drawing me away from other duties and training.
‘Ekko says Ronen understands and urges you to go. They’ll find cover for your patrol.’
I winced, knowing that probably meant everyone else being forced to cover wider territories for their patrols, but thanked her, and trotted after the messenger, all the way to the palace, and into the royal quarters.
This man must have been more trusted than the guards who’d received me before, because doors opened before we reached them, and he only nodded, while other servants bobbed their heads, staring at me after we passed. I could feel their eyes on the back of my neck.
I expected to be ushered to another waiting room outside the queen’s rooms. So it was a surprise when the large, double doors were opened wide to admit us, and closed in our wake.
“Ma’am! The Furyknight, Brennan Kearney, as you requested!” The man gave a flamboyant bow as the queen turned from where she stood, dressed in deep burgundy splendor, bent over a book held open by one of the older servants. While several others stood around the room at the ready.
“Very good, Todde,” the queen said distractedly. “Please go and ensure they’ve prepared the receiving room properly.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
Todde turned on his heel as sharply as any soldier, and marched back out of the room without looking at me.
“Oh dear, have you washed? But of course not, it’s still early,” the queen sighed, clapping her hands. “Soldiers and their dirt—we’ll need a bath, immediately. And bring the new gown in here and prepare for dressing. There will be little time. Style her hair while she bathes.”
Several women who’d been standing at the walls, curtseyed and hurried from the room through two different doors. As they hastened away, the queen turned to face me, her lips pursed, and eyes scanning me from my messy braid, to my dirty toes.
“I was told you required my presence immediately,” I said by way of explanation. “I came as I was.”
“The right thing to do,” she nodded, though her expression implied otherwise. “Don’t worry, my maids will help you bathe quickly.”
“I… thank you, of course. May I ask what I’m being prepared for?”
Her gaze sharpened, but she nodded. “The king and I often host audiences with the Court. Today, I thought your presence would be relevant. I see an opportunity for our goals to collide. There is a noble here from Fyrehold. She’s remained in the palace since the banquet, you’ll remember.
I cannot ask her to leave, but my hope is that by introducing you, her interest will be piqued and she may find herself suddenly much more interested in returning home.
“You’ll attend as my companion—they’ll all assume I’ve chosen you as a pet, much like our tea two days ago—but this time, it is a more formal gathering, so have your wits about you.
Though you’ll see their manners diminish quickly once the wine and scotch begins to flow,” she said, rolling her eyes.
The door to the right opened and two women entered, a long, flowing, blush-colored gown held over their heads by sticks.
The queen, distracted, turned to instruct them on placing the gown carefully over a chaise lounge, by which time, two men entered from the other door, carrying a large, copper tub between them.
They left as soon as they’d dropped it on the carpet and bowed to the queen.
But behind them, a line of servants—the women who’d been here just minutes earlier—appeared carrying buckets and pitchers.
I was stunned as, in a line that flowed through the room, then back out, they filled the bath halfway within just a few short minutes.
The line hadn’t stopped when the queen clapped her hands again. “Strip, Bren. There is no time. My maids will assist you.
I squeaked as two women with white bibs pinned to their dark shirts, appeared at my back and began reaching for my jacket.
Stunned, I engaged in a short tug-of-war with my leathers, until one of the women glanced to the right, towards the queen, then leaned into my ear.
“I’ll hold a towel up to guard you from sight—but don’t resist. She’s impatient this morning.”
With a gulp and a quick scan of the room to ensure none of the men had returned, I nodded, and started unbuttoning my leathers, though my stomach twisted with nerves.
I was grateful when, true to her word, the woman with the white bib motioned to two of the maids still awaiting orders against the wall, and a moment later, two large towels were held on either side to block me from view of the doors.
The bath steamed, tendrils coiling up into the warm room, though I felt cold the moment my skin was bare.
I hurried to step over the side and slide into it, instinctively looking for soap and a washcloth, startling when a hand plunged into the water behind me, then slapped the lathered cloth to my shoulder and began to scrub.
My heart was still racing when, the moment my back was clean, a strong hand gripped my shoulder again and pulled me back. I instinctively braced, resisting, preparing to twist and break the grip, when I realized it was only the maid who’d been kind about the towels.
“Rest back against the tub so we can brush your hair out while the girls clean the rest of you.”
I reluctantly followed her instructions about sitting back, but tried to find the soap. “They don’t need to wash me, I can do it—”
“Please, my Lady. Let us assist. It will be faster—and gain her approval,” the maid breathed.
Body tense and mind whirling, I made myself rest back against the tub, hands clasping the sides, grateful for the towels still held up by the two maids on either side of the tub. But they were further away now, leaving room for two other servants to kneel at the side and scrub my skin.
All of my skin.
It wasn’t as if I hadn’t bathed in the sight of women before.
I knew there was no harm to come here. But it had been so long since I’d been naked under anyone’s eyes, except Donavyn’s.
And somehow, their perfunctory gazes and quick, efficient movements, made me tense.
The only pleasant sensation was my hair being brushed out by the older maid behind me, and the swift tugs and tucks she used to style it.
Despite loathing having all those women’s eyes on me, I was grateful that they were so quick and efficient. It seemed bare minutes before the tugging at my hair ceased, and then the quiet voice rose.
“She’s ready, Your Majesty.”
“Very good, let’s get her dressed before the men take the bath away.”
A rush of gratitude washed through me at the same time I cringed at the thought of those men returning while I was still unclothed.
I pushed to my feet, grateful when the women who’d been holding the towels to guard my modesty, now stepped up and wrapped the thick, absorbent cloths around my body.
At least, that’s what I thought they were doing.
Within moments it was clear—they would dry me, as I would a child.
I stood there, skin damp and cold, contrasting cheeks hot with embarrassment, as I stood with legs wide and arms akimbo so they could scrub every last drop of water from my skin.