Chapter 22
He turns and starts walking, not waiting for an argument this time. My guard against him is eroding, and it makes me want to run the other way and disappear into the dark. I’m worried if he looks too long at my face, he’ll see something I don’t want him to.
But I can’t make an excuse to his retreating back.
I follow him into the castle, hurrying my steps to catch up. He turns down hallway after hallway, until it becomes clear where we’re headed.
Until there are only two rooms we could end up in.
“Hey!” I rush to get closer, wincing from the effort. “Are you taking me to your office for something?”
“Nope.” He pauses, looking back, his eyes twinkling with something less than innocent as he watches me grapple with the only other place we could be going.
I plant my feet, my heart rate picking up. “Then what exactly could you want with me in your bedroom?”
“I would have told you, if you had kept up on the way.”
“Your legs are far too long,” I say irritably. “And I’m asking now.”
“You need a bath.”
I jerk back, suddenly conscious of how long it has been since I even looked in a mirror. “I’m not that dirty!”
“You absolutely are. You have dirt all over your cheeks.”
“We’ve been in an emergency situation!” I raise an arm to brush it off.
He grabs my wrist. “There is blood on that sleeve.”
“Fine. Then I’ll change my clothes. And I’ll take a bath. I have a bath in my…” Room, I almost finish. The room I ceded to people who needed it far more than I. “I’ll take a shower then. In the servants’ wing.”
He sighs. “You seem to be picking up a habit of ignoring your lord’s very reasonable orders.”
I scowl. “I said I would shower.”
“No. I said you need a bath.” He steps closer, into my space.
I crane my neck back to keep eye contact.
He doesn’t drop my arm, as if he expects me to smear blood over my face just to defy him.
“I’ve been exceedingly patient as you’ve continued to make choices that cause needless pain.
But I have my limits, Ly. So are you going to get in the bath, or am I going to throw you in? ”
I flap my mouth, some half-word coming out. “Excuse me if I find it a bit surprising to be told to bathe in the chamber of my employer.”
“It’s just an available room. As you said, it’s an emergency situation.
And I’ll be far from it.” His eyes are intent as they explore my face.
It feels like a physical caress, sending shivers over my skin.
“I’m not insisting because you are dirty, Ly, although you very much are.
I’m insisting because you are in pain.” He tilts his head, the crystal at his ear swinging. “Any other objections?”
“And why can’t I just shower?” I blurt, unable to stop myself.
He sighs. “Proud Ly. Difficult Ly. Because I doubt you will be able to walk tomorrow morning if you don’t do as I say. Now choose: walk or throw.”
He releases my arm and steps out of my space, striding toward his room. I take my first deep breath in minutes.
But I believe his warning, so I hold my chin as high as I can and choose walk.
By the time I step into his bedroom, he’s already passed through it, the open door across the room marking his path. The last time I saw his bed, he was kneeling between my legs on the floor beside it. I force the memory away and hurry through.
I pass the closet and enter a tiled chamber with a sink and shower, but no bath. Yet another door stands open, revealing a staircase.
When I reach the top, warm air hits me. Stairs descend into a stone room. Candles flicker in niches carved into the walls. Arched windows without glass let in starlight and cool night air. At the center lies a sunken bath, the steam off it so thick I can barely see the water.
Alaris kneels at its edge, one sleeve pushed up to reveal his muscled forearm.
He trails his hand through the water, then reaches into the basket beside him and gathers a handful of night-blooming lavender.
In the starlight, the blossoms are lush and full.
He scatters them, and they float on the surface in rich purple bunches.
I descend slowly, taking a deep breath of the delicious steam. And I frown.
“Something else to say, Ly? Don’t hold back. You’re going in the water either way.”
This man. “I shouldn’t be the one to receive this.”
“I am responsible for my staff’s wellbeing. This is what you require to continue to do your job.” He shakes off his hand, rings glinting, and stands. “So, I am providing it.”
Other members of his staff don’t need this. They can do their jobs without special treatment. And I don’t like what this special treatment is doing to my heart.
He gestures for me to come closer, but I don’t move my feet. “I’m fine.”
His expression softens, slightly. “Until recently, you were a governess in the flameward lands. Winter is close, and it’s getting colder.
It’s understandable you need time to adapt to this life.
” He eyes me steadily. “It was bad enough a few days ago, but your choice to sleep outside has made this a matter of medical necessity.”
As if it’s my fault I ache? I bristle. “And what about the families sleeping in the dirt?”
“They are in tents with sleeping pads and plenty of wool. Not a stone aviary designed to house birds.”
“How do you know I wasn’t comfortable? Maybe I like sleeping in the aviary.”
His sardonic expression says he isn’t even slightly convinced.
He crosses his arms. “Regardless, you’re going to take a bath, and you’re not getting out until you’ve forgotten what cold feels like.
You can argue with me after and tell me I was wrong and you didn’t need it. I might even pretend to believe you.”
He stalks toward me, his dangerous gaze making his words echo: walk or throw.
He brushes past me and loops around, herding me the rest of the way down the steps.
I move my feet to ensure he doesn’t make good on his promise but keep my chin lifted.
I shiver with pleasure as the steam engulfs me, cutting through the chill lodged deep beneath my skin.
He is quiet a moment, that intense gaze pulling me in. “I’ll wait in the bedchamber for a bit, just to make sure you don’t drown.”
“Don’t you dare come in,” I say, weariness taking all the fight out of my voice. “I’d rather drown.”
“Just go slowly,” he says, with a chuckle. “Take as long as you like.” And then he closes the door between us, sealing me in with the steam.
I wait a few moments to make sure he’s really gone, then I turn toward the bath. It beckons with unreal beauty, the lavender and mist making it look like a dream.
With no witness but the starlight, I strip off my layers, peeling away the grime of the past days. I approach the curved edge, wiggling my toes. Then I step into the water.
It’s hot. Really hot. I suck in a quick breath.
I have to put my foot in and out a few times before I can keep it submerged.
But once I do, I moan. It feels exquisite.
I’m glad Alaris isn’t here to see my reaction, but truly, it’s so good I think my pride would fold even if he was watching every second.
I sink in inch by inch, letting the water climb my calves, my thighs, my breasts, until it settles at my collarbone, wetting the ends of my hair.
The lip of the bath is perfectly sloped to let me rest my head.
My body floats, every limb suspended without effort.
Lavender drifts by, and with each draw of the scented mist, I relax a little more.
The warmth is almost unbearable in its pleasure, the heat melting muscles and thoughts, my tension unraveling into each curl of steam. And although I can’t imagine admitting it, Alaris was completely right. For the first time since I left the palace, I don’t feel even a dull echo of pain.
I tried to reject this bath on principle.
But now that I’m in it, and the set of my jaw is no longer so brutal, Alaris’s words about needing some time to adapt ring truer than he knows.
Before my twenty-first birthday, if someone had told me I would leave the palace on my own, I wouldn’t have believed them.
Princesses only ever left to join their husbands in marriage.
I went from a life wrapped in silk to a life on the run.
I’ve had to adjust. I’m still adjusting.
Even if I wasn’t as quick or as able as the rest of the staff, I still helped.
Even if I could only carry one bucket of water while others shouldered two, I still reduced the load.
The bandages I wrapped might have been clumsy at first, but I replaced them today without instruction.
And the lobellum I cultivated to soothe my own skin, burned too often for a princess of the flame, helped save lives.
It matters, at least a little, that I am here. My efforts aren’t for nothing.
I’m judging myself against those who’ve lived their entire lives a different way, when I’ve already made it further on my own than I ever thought I could. I’ve been so busy trying to survive, I hadn’t really taken stock of that.
And going to the aviary every morning feels like coming home. The hawks are happy to see me, and perhaps I am just discovering how unfamiliar that is. I thought peace was returning to my silent room at the Sunrise Palace.
If I wasn’t afraid of impending doom, I think I’d like this life better.
Strange.
Time slips away. It helps me relax knowing Alaris is near. Even though I’m chased by a phantom, one I have bone-deep sureness no ordinary lock or guard can protect me from, there is something about Alaris’s presence that makes me feel safe.
Unfortunately, that admission doesn’t just pass through my head. It pangs in my chest.
My mind conjures images of Alaris over the last few days.
Since I arrived, I’ve underestimated him.
I saw his cavalier humor and charisma and assumed he was careless.
That he was a less violent leader than my father, and better tempered, but more interested in luxury and flirting than anything else.