Chapter 42 #2
We’re led next to the mud baths, a concoction of minerals and earth that promises to draw out toxins and imbue our skin with nutrients.
The sensation of sinking into the warm, thick substance is alien, yet strangely comforting.
As it envelops me, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and settle deeper into the bath.
“Who knew being covered in mud could feel so... comfy?” I remark, the irony not lost on me.
“Only the finest for our girl, courtesy of his royal rocker-ness,” Khol replies, his voice muffled slightly by the mask of mud over his face.
The laughter that bubbles up from my chest feels foreign in this temple of tranquility, but it’s genuine—a sound I’ve rarely allowed myself the luxury of expressing.
We’re cocooned next, wrapped like precious artifacts in cloths steeped in herbs and oils.
The scents are heady, intoxicating, seeping into my pores and lulling my senses into a state of repose I hadn’t known possible.
By the time we rinse off, my skin hums with a vitality that mirrors the newfound lightness in my soul. This day, this immersion in unadulterated indulgence, has taken the edge off a life usually lived at the sharpness of a knife’s blade.
“Feel different?” Khol asks as we step out, our robes clinging to our refreshed bodies.
“Like I’ve shed more than just dirt,” I admit, the confession slipping out before I can stop it.
“Good,” he says simply, a knowing look in his eyes that doesn’t need further words. “Just a few more treatments and we’ll be ready to face the shitshow.”
I think he’s being overly optimistic, but I guess we’ll find out.
The scents of lavender and eucalyptus wrap around us, a fragrant shroud that beckons my weary body to surrender fully. I’m stretched out on a soft table, muscles yielding under the deft touch of the reflexologist, her hands coaxing harmony from the soles of my feet to the crown of my head.
“Relax, Fiadh,” Khol murmurs from the adjacent table, his voice low and steady amidst the whisper of bamboo flutes playing in the background. There’s a solidarity in his tone, an unspoken pact between us that today is about letting go of the harshness that usually defines our existence.
I peek through half-lidded eyes to see him with his head back, features softened in repose. The sight brings an unexpected warmth to my chest—this formidable man, known for his ruthlessness, is sharing in this vulnerability, encouraging mine.
“Who knew you’d make such a decent spa buddy?” I tease, aiming for levity but finding it undercut by the genuine affection threading through my words. “Feray and your brother are going to laugh their tails off.”
“Who knew you’d enjoy getting spoiled?” he counters without opening his eyes. “I think everyone will enjoy that tidbit.”
A laugh escapes me, softer this time, mingling with the aromatic mist filling the room. He’s right; the indulgence has seeped into my bones, and I can’t deny the buoyancy it’s brought to my spirit.
“Point taken,” I concede, allowing myself to sink deeper into the experience, each breath shedding the remnants of tension.
Hours slip by, marked only by the transition from one therapeutic treatment to the next. By the time the last session ends, the world feels different, as if viewed through a lens of serene clarity.
“Are you calm enough to face the crap our family found out today?” Khol asks as we rise, our movements languid.
“We don’t have a choice,” I reply, stepping into the plush slippers waiting beside the table.
We gather ourselves quietly, leaving behind the sanctuary of the spa.
As we move through the marble corridors, I glance at Khol, finding his gaze already on me.
There’s an acknowledgment there, a shared recognition of the transformation we’ve undergone—not just of body, but of mind and perhaps even soul.
“Thanks, bad boy,” I say, the gratitude spilling forth naturally. “Today was... more than I expected.”
“Anytime, Sassypants,” he replies, his smile genuine. “You and I can get lost in the spa anytime you want, even when we get home.”
We reach the penthouse, the expansive space a stark contrast to the cocoon we’ve just left. But the sense of renewal clings to us, a wellspring from which we’ll draw strength for whatever lies ahead.
When we get inside, I make a run for the bathroom—it’s been a long day, after all.
Flicking on the lights in the bathroom, I wait for them to ignite.
The light from the bulbs reveals a face that seems unfamiliar—not just rested and pampered, but softened in expression, unguarded.
The reflection catches me off guard; it’s as if the day’s indulgences peeled back a layer I didn’t know I wore, exposing something raw yet serene beneath.
Damn. Maybe all that shit was worth whatever yearly salary Rev paid for it.
I reach for the array of garments laid out across the chaise, fabrics rich and textures varied, each piece more exquisite than the last. As my fingers brush over a silk gown, I pause, allowing myself a moment to marvel at how different I feel.
It’s not just the absence of tension in my muscles, or the smoothness of my skin—it’s deeper than that.
There’s a lightness in my chest, a buoyancy in my spirit that wasn’t there this morning.
“Knocking it out of the park with the fancy threads for dinner, huh?” Khol’s voice breaks through my reverie from across the room where he’s examining his own selection.
“Seems like we’re playing in the big leagues now,” I reply, meeting his eyes in the mirror.
His reflection grins back, and I can’t help but return the gesture.
The camaraderie between us has taken root, grown through shared experiences beyond the battles and bravado—now strengthened by mutual vulnerability and leisure.
“Who would’ve thought spa treatments could serve as armor?” I muse aloud, selecting a dress that shimmers like twilight skies.
“Best kind of armor is the one your enemy doesn’t expect. We’re not just fortified; we’re revitalized,” he counters with a wink, pulling on a shirt that fits him with tailored precision.
The corners of my mouth lift involuntarily.
Today had indeed been a revelation. The unexpected joy of surrendering to luxury, to care, had not dulled our edges but honed them differently.
I find myself grateful—not just for the reprieve from our relentless reality, but for Khol, who unveiled this unforeseen side of life, and of myself.
“Ready to conquer?” Khol asks, now fully dressed, his posture relaxed yet commanding.
“More ready than ever,” I affirm, slipping into the gown. It envelops me like a second skin, another layer of preparedness for what’s coming. “The press in Amber Hollow needs to know who they’re dealing with,” I say with a determined nod, stepping away from the reflection to finish getting ready.
It may not be the Fiadh I’m used to being in order to protect people I care about, but I’ll be damned if I will not work it with everything I’ve got.