32. Raithe
Raithe
I lifted my hand to the doorknob of the royal chambers, hovering a beat longer than necessary. While Felaf prepared herself for our journey to retrieve Rahzlyn’s grandparents, I prepared to face Rahzlyn.
We were going against protocol, at Maryn’s behest, by leaving her without a guardian’s protection for a few hours.
There was no reason for Felaf to accompany me, even though two Pegasi would technically be easier than one to transport the grandparents.
Either Maryn didn’t trust me, or she had another reason for demanding we go together.
I listened, piecing together where Rahzlyn was in her room.
Of course she was in the bath when I needed to inform her of our departure.
I never knew how things would start with her—or how they’d end. I loathed the lack of control, yet I thrived on the tension. Would it simmer until we wounded the other with our sharp tongues, or would she disarm me with softness?
Contrary to Felaf’s plea, it wasn’t that I didn’t respect her. Where Maryn was cold and secretive and controlling, Rahzlyn was warm and vibrant and vulnerably expressive—everything I didn’t know how to be.
My instincts warned me to be wary of her still. Such displays of emotion couldn’t possibly be genuine, even though a suppressed part of me envied her ability to feel things so openly.
Rahzlyn’s heartbeat quickened from within, recapturing my attention. Amidst the stillness of water trickling, muffled gurgles followed.
As though she were underwater.
Drowning.
I darted into her room and burst into the bathing chamber. All was quiet on the surface of the circular, sunken bath. I leapt into the steaming water, grasping for her body beneath mounds of bubbles. The water was deepest in the center, rising to nearly my chest.
I lifted Rahzlyn by her arms. She gasped for air and peeled her hair from her face. She frowned when she recognized me. Droplets clung to her fluttering lashes as she demanded, “What are you doing in here?”
“Saving your life—again. I’ve lost track of how many times that is now.” It was an exaggeration, if only to prove a point.
She shrugged my hands away. “I didn’t need saving.”
“You were drowning.”
“I wasn’t drowning, I was practicing.”
“Practicing drowning?”
“Holding my breath,” she clarified. “For my trial, remember?” She folded her arms across her chest. “Frankly, I’m insulted that you think a bathtub could fell me.”
“Plenty of nefarious things can happen in a bath.”
“Spoken from personal experience?” she quipped suggestively.
I stared at her for a beat. “How long did you last?” When she looked away, I scoffed. “You weren’t even counting?”
“Could you please just leave and let me bathe in peace?”
“I’m not sure you understand the meaning of the word.”
She planted her hands on her flaring hips. My thoughts came to a screeching halt as water sluiced over a black cloth wrapped around her breasts, clinging transparently to her skin. My communica dangled from a delicate gold chain, tucked into the crevice of her chest.
I quickly fixated on the hole in the ceiling, likely designed to line up with the moon when full.
“What?” Rahzlyn mocked. “Never seen a naked woman before?”
“You’re not naked.” I had to imagine a matching piece covered her lower parts, otherwise the idea of us being this close…
I jerked back and hopped out of the bath. Soapy water dripped from my soaked uniform, pooling around my boots.
She waded to the bath’s edge and sank onto the submerged seat. Bubbly water rose to her collarbones. As she gathered her wet curls atop her head, I took in the chamber and realized it was the first time I’d been in here.
It was a grander, larger version than the ones belonging to the guardian chambers.
Red geraniums grew along the veined, black walls, their fallen petals sprinkling the surface.
Small mirrors of various shapes were scattered around the edge.
Mirrors, like water, were reflective and thought to be symbolic of truth and illusion in water queendoms. They were often a common object used when bonding with the element.
Iron sconces and candelabras cast restless shadows. Aromatic mist rose from the bath, fragrant with lavender and almond. Wooden stools, smooth and dark from years of use, sat beside low tables strewn with neatly folded towels, crystals, and vials of shimmering oils.
Rahzlyn was at the center of it, her long neck now resting against a slightly raised platform. A waterfall gently trickled from the hewn rock wall behind her, the source of the bath’s water, with temperature-controlling knobs.
Being in here with her shouldn’t have felt as intimate as it suddenly did.
“If you have something else you wish to say, go ahead. I have no intention of removing myself from this bath anytime soon. Letti added something that’s soothing on my skin.”
“Magnesium salts,” I confirmed. “Among other anti-inflammatory oils.”
“Such as?”
The room brightened a fraction from my glowing glyphs and eyes. “Lavender, chamomile, helichrysum, tea tree, neroli, and geranium. Smells like she even included some ground oatmeal in there.”
Her head cocked to the side. “You can really smell all of that?”
I found it comical that she doubted me. Then again, upon studying her unguarded features, she didn’t understand how guardian abilities worked. Her naivety was refreshing in a way. “All Chosens bathe in a similar blend to help their glyphs heal.”
She nodded once, continuing to stare at me curiously. I shifted on my feet as she pursed her lips. “Was that bath rescue an excuse to spy on me and see if I’m corresponding with my apostate friends yet? Or have you finally decided to follow through on your innocuous threat?”
“If I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t have rushed in here to save you from drowning.”
“But I wasn’t drowning. How do I know you didn’t come in here to finish the deed?”
I suppressed a groan. She was insufferable.
As if she could read my thoughts, she snorted. “Right back at you.”
Alarm coursed through me. No one had ever read me so easily. People saw what I wanted them to see—which was usually nothing.
Her head tilted back. “I’m clearly fine, so you can leave now.”
“Are you?”
Her puffy eyelids and reddened nose clashed with her casual tone. She’d been crying at some point tonight. I didn’t particularly like the idea of tormenting her to the point of tears, no matter what secrets she may have been harboring.
Rahzlyn frowned under my scrutiny, then recovered by rubbing at her eyes. “Just tired.”
“Felaf and I are leaving to get your grandparents,” I told her. My boots scuffed along the damp stone as I strode casually around the bath.
Rahzlyn straightened. “What about Maryn?”
I scanned the mound of thick textbooks stacked to the side, perilously close to the pooled water.
“Normally we send a skyship for Chosen family members. Given the need for discretion, especially with the apostai’s latest attack on Cyrene’s family, she agreed to let both Felaf and me retrieve your grandparents personally after Gregorios told her he found their location through Blood Sight. ”
Rahzlyn massaged her temple. “It’s getting hard to keep track of all the stories we’re concocting.”
“I only planned to come in here to warn you. We shouldn’t be gone long.”
She didn’t say anything, but fear crept into her honey eyes.
“Similar to the observatory, the Chosen rooms are magically shielded to only unlock for Chosens,” I said. “Only those with verbal permission from a nearby Chosen are granted entry.”
Her brows drew together at this. “How does that work?”
“Same way arches work. It’s ancient magic, imbued from the Astrals themselves. Don’t leave your chambers, or let anyone else in, until we return. Guards will be posted in our absence just in case.”
“Excluding Barto and Chessah, I hope. It’s obvious she trusts them the most. They were the only guards allowed in the council room with us.”
“Perceptive.”
“There’s more to me than what you see,” she said briskly. “Some people are too obstinate to care.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “I see what people show me.”
“And what have I shown you?” Rahzlyn challenged, her voice low. Her toes peeked above the water, toying with the bubbles, while her long legs traced slow, deliberate patterns beneath the surface. Every movement was measured, knowing.
My throat tightened. “That you’re afraid. Of what, I have yet to figure out.”
I couldn’t stop my gaze from lingering on her long, dancer’s legs. The taut glide of her muscles made my pulse thud hard. I remembered the way the jewels dangled down those legs.
I still had those jewels in my chamber.
Why did I still have those jewels in my chamber?
“Isn’t everyone afraid of something?” she pondered.
“Not me.”
“It’s human nature. How can you not be afraid of anything?”
“Because I’m a guardian,” I deflected, meeting her eyes. “What are you afraid of? Considering how easily you stood up to her, I doubt it’s Maryn.”
“Dying,” she admitted. “I’m afraid for my family, and I don’t want to die.”
“It’s more than that.”
Rahzlyn bit her lip. “Do you think Maryn would try something while you’re gone?”
It seemed I wasn’t the only one deflecting tonight. “She doesn’t feel as in control after what you did,” I reminded her. “Killing you would be extreme, even for her.”
“Is that actually allowed? Killing a Chosen.”
“If necessary, depending on the cause. It usually requires two rounds of votes. First, all barons must vote unanimously to escalate it to the courts. From there, all Chosens from every court must vote the same.” I observed her fastidiously.
“Without cause, there are other ways to torment or make such a thing appear an accident, though.”
“Was she always like this?”
“Only Gregorios knows her full story, and he’s never said a word.
” Having seen my own past through Blood Sight, he was gracious enough never to comment on it either.
“I do know she was the daughter of a baron long ago. And that it came as a surprise to many when Queen Auden selected her to be an advisor.”
“Why?”