Chapter 9 - Bristles and Bathwater
Duchess Hyton kept a strong grip on my arm as she tugged me through the palace halls. I tried to explain that a maid could escort me to appropriate quarters, but she had none of it.
“We have a room ready for you,” Duchess Hyton said as she kept her eyes forward. “Now that the whole palace knows Sir Bloodstone is not joining us, I can finally burn that disgusting giant mattress my husband had put together.”
I hoped the “room” the Duchess mentioned was not a dungeon, but I forced myself to keep calm. I came to the palace with an invitation, I had not performed any sorcery, and I at least appeared completely innocent. So long as I kept my mouth shut, I should be fine.
After climbing three flights of stairs, Duchess Hyton walked me down a hall with blue carpeted runners that I recognized as the royal family quarters. A couple of maids opened a pair of doors and soon I was in a small room with a porcelain tub in the center.
At least Duchess Hyton had taken me to a bathing chamber instead of a cell in the Western tower. The room was papered with a pattern of blue birds soaring through pink damask. Fresh white and lavender blooms puffed out of vases like clouds.
Although appearances could be deceiving.
Duchess Hyton slumped onto a cushioned stool near the tub. Her voice was dry as parchment. “She had an accident. Clean her up.”
I pursed my lips. I did not expect company while I bathed, but apparently privacy was a luxury only the poor could afford.
One maid unlaced my dress while two others filled the tub with steaming water from a kettle.
I dared to look at Duchess Hyton again. She took long sips from her golden goblet while peering over the rim at me.
I threw my gaze down to the pink patterned rug. Hopefully the Duchess was just thrusting me into an odd post-Selection Night ritual like Gerond and Myles had done with their kisses.
The maid freed me of my dress and undergarments. I crossed my arms over my breasts and kept my eyes down as I stepped into the tub. The warm water on my skin felt like paradise.
The door clicked open and Brietta walked in. I gritted my teeth and tightened my folded arms. Who else was going to watch me bathe?
Brietta’s hands were tightly clasped in front of her belly as she kept her eyes on Duchess Hyton. “We collected her clothes.”
Two maids appeared behind Brietta and placed my trunk on the floor.
I gripped the edge of the tub but kept my face still. My Nordingaard crystal was in that trunk.
My heart thudded. I thought I would have had some time to properly hide my trinket before confronting any of the Hytons.
Tingles of magic in the bathwater danced around my legs and belly as my white flame flickered around my heart. I tightened my grip on the edge of the tub and bit my tongue.
I did not want to use sorcery in front of the Hytons! Why the fuck was my magic activating?
Duchess Hyton waved a hand at the maids. “You girls are dismissed. Let Madame Bloodstone have some privacy.”
The maids bowed their heads and left us. I cut a glance to Duchess Hyton, who did not move from her stool.
Privacy, my ass.
Duchess Hyton’s blue eyes flicked down to the bathwater. “What joyous news, another one of my kittens does not have an heir on the way.”
Kittens? I followed her eyes to the trail of crimson swirling up from my hips in the water.
Shit! My cycle had started. I should have been keeping track!
I looked away and the magic in the water quieted.
Duchess Hyton scoffed. “Oh, do not be embarrassed. The longer you can go without getting pregnant, the easier your life will be—right Brie?”
Brie? When did Duchess Hyton start calling Brietta by her shortened name?
Brietta’s voice was stiffer than I had ever heard it. “Right, Freya.”
Freya turned back to me. “Not that you had to worry about that—you still have that virginal look in your eyes.”
The flames inside me burned hotter and a scowl broke through my stoic mask. I was not completely untouched, but a couple of Riyan’s fingers coaxing an orgasm out of me was apparently not enough to satisfy the terms of Fraleigh’s blood bond.
Even though it had felt…very good.
The memory of Riyan’s massive hands gently parting my thighs invaded my mind. He had tugged on my hair while his other hand explored me, my mouth grazing his as I gasped, my fingernails piercing his arms as I…
Then I remembered where I was and my cheeks burned. Freya took one look at my face and cackled in effervescent glee. What a ridiculous old drunk.
“Well,” she slurred, “looks like you two are still synced up from Ashmore.”
I held down a smile. Despite Brietta and Derrick sealing their blood bond, Brietta was not with child.
“The monthly curse is a blessing now.” Freya sat on the edge of the tub. “Just as I was telling Brie, these men will keep you happy because you are the only person in the world that can give them what they need—an heir.”
She gestured to Brietta with her goblet. “Thanks to that damn blood bond, the heir to Lycaster has to come from her. Keep holding out and even the strongest man in the House of Hyton will bend over backward to get you anything you want. But the instant you push out that male heir…all your power is gone.”
Freya tipped back her goblet and her voice echoed in the metal. “Gone, gone, gone…it is all gone.”
A tiny bell tinkled and Freya removed her goblet from her lips. “Ah, His Excellency came to join us.”
I covered my chest and crumpled into the bathwater. The Duke was in the bathing chamber too?
Freya barked out a laugh. Brietta glanced down and said, “She means the cat.”
Brietta bent over and lifted a large mound of brown fluff with green eyes and white paws into her lap. The gigantic cat nudged Brietta’s palm as she stroked its ruff and ears. “Magnus the Bed Warmer, or Magnus for short.”
“I call him ‘His Excellency,’” Freya said, “because it pisses my husband off.”
The door creaked open again. My stomach tensed until I realized it was only Merri, Freya’s personal maid. She held a ceramic cup and saucer in her hands and glanced at Freya expectantly.
Freya nodded toward me. “Give it to her. She must be starving after that long journey from Bloodstone.”
Merri politely dipped her head and walked over to the tub. I obligingly lifted my wet hands out of the water and placed them both around the warm cup. Inside was what looked like cream with flecks of brown dust on top.
Soft steam tickled the bottom of my nose. The promised taste was tantalizing, but I was not foolish enough to drink it—not with both Freya and Brietta watching me like a pair of eagles.
Freya scoffed. “You will knock back faerie wine but worry about this?”
She snatched the cup out of my hands and took a drink. She handed the cup back to me while pointedly licking the cream off her top lip.
She might have been a drunk lunatic, but the Duchess of Lycaster would not willingly poison herself. I lifted the cup to my lips and swallowed.
Every part of my body from my lips to my chest was suddenly warm—like I was getting a hug from my mother. I savored every moment of it until I was sucking the dregs from the edge of the cup.
“What a good girl,” Duchess Hyton said with a smile as I lowered the cup. “Good to see someone else enjoys my little invention.”
I licked my lips, searching for any remaining drop of cream or tingle of spice. “Invention?”
“The heaviest of cream,” she replied wistfully. “A Meadowshyre spice blend. And the secret—hunter’s root. Ground so finely that you cannot taste it, but enough of the hearty root to fill you up.”
I smiled. Hunter’s root was all over the forests in Ravenwood. Our cook who was fond of spirits after dinner once revealed that my mother had ordered her to mix hunter’s root in my porridge every morning because she was concerned with how scrawny and small I was.
Too bad the damn root never made me grow taller than five feet.
The delicious drink turned in my stomach. I had greedily slurped down their offerings and yet I was there to extort the Duke.
Although the Duchess would likely not be too upset if I threatened her husband with anything, especially the truth of what had happened with his mother.
Regardless, I had a contingency plan should the House of Hyton come crumbling down. I would take the innocents and run to Bloodstone Fortress. Maybe my magic would be under control by then…hopefully.
Hopefully I would not leave the Dukedom in chaos, either.
I gritted my teeth and set my empty cup on a nearby table. The fate of Lycaster was not my problem. The star that guided me through the hazy night was the thought of getting Riyan back from the Queen of the Giants.
If Riyan gave everything for me, I had no problem taking everything for him.
It was…the right thing to do. It was a repayment for his sacrifice, justice, or even merely giving him the second chance at life he deserved.
No matter how much I tried to honey my reasoning, my motives were still cold.
I let out a frustrated breath and looked over at Brietta. Magnus had somehow left her lap without me noticing. She straightened her spine and glanced over at the Duchess. “I can take things from here, Freya.”
Freya let out a sloppy yawn. “I am certain you can. I need to acquaint my face with my pillow anyway.”
She left her stool and slunk into the darkened doorway of what I could only assume was her bedchamber. Magnus’s bell tinkled as he dutifully followed her, his fluffy tail dragging behind him.
That was…odd, but so was every encounter with Duchess Freya Hyton.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Brietta extending her hand. I hesitated for a moment before I took it and she helped me out of the tub.
This was not the cordial reunion I had planned for.
She wordlessly handed me a towel and I patted myself dry. I put on undergarments and menstrual wrappings as the wordless tension grew heavier.
Silence was my symphony, but it was a foreign tongue from Brietta’s mouth. The longer she went without talking, the more suspicious I became.
Just as I was about to start a polite conversation about palace life, Brietta handed me a folded nightgown. The hem tumbled to the floor as I held it and my heart stopped.
It was not just any nightgown, it was my nightgown.
“Took it from your trunk while you were eating,” Brietta said.
I swallowed and slipped the nightgown on. Maybe she had not rifled through my trunk to find the damning evidence of my treasonous actions. She knew me for too long to suspect anything. All I had to do was act normal and I could slip past her.
“We were friends for six years, Sera,” Brietta said. “We have a lot to talk about…”
She pulled her hand out of the pocket and my stomach dropped. She held up my choker, the illegal crystal catching the candlelight.
“…and you had better not lie to me this time.”