“This is my room?” I asked.
Aios nodded as she walked toward the nightstand. She twisted a switch on a lamp. “Yes. Is it not suitable? If not, I’m sure—”
“No, it’s fine. It’s more than fine.” It was unbelievable. My mother’s private quarters weren’t even this size.
“Perfect.” She breezed past the bed. “You’ll see a switch on the wall by the doors. That controls the ceiling light. The rest of the lights can be turned on and off by just twisting the switch. Your bathing chamber is here. Come. Have a look.”
I followed her in a daze. Aios flicked another of those wall switches. Light flooded the space, and I thought I might faint.
My bathing chamber at Wayfair had the barest necessities—a toilet, sink, and a small copper tub barely big enough for me to sit in. That was it. This was…extraordinary.
The claw-foot tub was large enough for two fully grown adults to stretch their legs and arms. There was not one but two standing mirrors, one on the other side of the tub, and another beside the vanity. The space was spotless and smelled like lemons.
“What do you think? Is it suitable?”
Shaking my head, I turned back to the main room. Ten of my old bedchambers could fit in this space, and there’d still be room leftover. For some inane reason, the back of my throat burned. “This is more than suitable.”
“Good.” Aios swept out of the bathing chamber, stopping beside me. Her head tilted. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah. Yes.” I cleared my throat.
She hesitated for a moment and then glided toward the doors near the table. “Through here, you can access the balcony. It’s rather large, and there is a seating area outside. I would suggest keeping the doors closed when you rest. The temperature doesn’t change a lot, but colder winds do come in from the mountains sometimes.”
Mountains?
“Would you like a fire started?” she asked.
“No-no, thank you.”
“If you change your mind at any point, all you need to do is pull on the rope by the door, and someone will answer.” Aios tied back the curtains on the bed, revealing several furs and a small heap of pillows. “What would you like to eat? Two cooks come by daily. Arik and Valrie are both amazing. There’s nothing too small or too large for them.”
“I…I don’t know,” I admitted, for once having no idea what I wanted to eat.
A small smile returned. “How about I have them whip you up a small plate of soup and bread?”
“That sounds okay.”
“Perfect. I will have hot water brought up for you, and…” She pressed a forefinger to her lips. “Is it safe to assume that you didn’t bring any clothing with you?”
“It’s safe to assume that.” I toyed with the fold of the cloak.
“Well, that won’t do. I’ll see what I can scrounge up for you.”
“Thank you.”
“Is there anything else you need at the moment?”
I started to say no. “Wait. Where do those doors lead?” I pointed at the ones behind the sitting area.
“To the chambers next door,” she answered. “To Nyktos’ rooms.”
My heart leapt somewhere unconnected to my body. “His rooms are adjoined with mine?”
“They are.”
That made sense. I was his Consort.
Aios lingered near the door, one hand toying with the chain of her necklace. “I don’t know the circumstances that led to your arrival, but what I do know is that I trust no one in either realm more than Nyktos, nor would I feel safer anywhere else,” she said, and her gaze met mine. Her eyes were haunted in a way that reminded me of the woman who had been standing outside with Nor. “I just thought you should know that.”
I watched her slip from the room. I didn’t know how long I stood there. It could have been a minute or five. When I started walking toward the curtained doors, I wasn’t even sure why.
Tugging aside the wispy white drapes, I pushed open the glass doors and stepped out. The space was large. A wide, deep-seated chair sat near the railing, along with a daybed. There were no winding staircases, no way down from here except for a long fall. But the balcony was connected to the one next door.
To Ash’s bedchamber. There was a similar chair on his, and I wondered if he ever sat out here.
I wondered why he’d put me in the room next to his.
A cool breeze lifted the pale strands of my hair as I crept between the lounges. Goosebumps spread across my flesh. I stared up and out, placing my hands on the railing. The stone was smooth and cold under my palms and I saw the twinkling lights of the city, and beyond, the distant rocky domes and cliffs encased in mist…or clouds. Were there even clouds here? I looked down and gasped.
Color.
I saw color.
Beyond the washed-out courtyard, there were trees. Hundreds of them. Thousands of them grew between the palace and the glittering lights of Lethe, and they were nothing like the ones I had seen on the road into the Shadowlands. Their trunks were gray, as were the twisted, sweeping branches, but their limbs weren’t bare. These were full of heart-shaped leaves.
Leaves the color of blood.
Aios returned rather quickly with food and the first article of clothing she had managed to obtain. It was a belted robe made of chenille or some other soft material I’d never owned before. She hung that on one of the hooks inside the bathing chamber.
Turned out, I was hungry, managing to devour the soup and several chunks of the toasted, garlicky, and buttery bread before the man I’d seen in the stables arrived with several pails of steaming-hot water. He introduced himself as Baines, and he hadn’t gotten close enough for me to see his eyes, but I assumed that he too was a god. Several pitchers of water sat on the floor while Aios dropped some sort of frothing salt into the tub that smelled of lemon and sugar.
Once more alone, I made my way into the bathing chamber. Aios had turned off the overhead light, leaving only the sconces on. The soft glow was more than enough to see myself in one of the standing mirrors.
No wonder Lailah had asked if I had been thrown into this realm.
Specks of dried blood dotted my face, mixing with the freckles. Both stood out starkly on my pale skin. There were also streaks of red in my hair, half of which had escaped its braid and now hung in tangles. My eyes appeared too wide. The green too bright. I looked feverish.
Or terrified.
I didn’t know if I felt that. If I felt anything as I let the cloak fall to the floor. My lip curled at the sight of my night rail. It was more red than white. There would be no salvaging it. I carefully pulled it over my head, wincing at the movement. Dropping the ruined garment, I scooped the braid and the loose strands of my hair over my shoulder as I turned halfway in the mirror.
“Gods,” I hissed at the ropey, raised streaks across my upper back. They were an angry shade of pinkish-red. Blood had beaded along one of the stripes.
I really wished I could’ve carved Tavius’s heart out.
The utter lack of remorse I felt for what I’d done to my stepbrother should’ve concerned me as I stepped into the tub, but it didn’t. I’d do it again because not even the near-scalding water could erase the suffocating memory of his breath against my cheek.
I eased into the deep tub, air hissing between my teeth as the lemony-scented water touched the edges of the wounds the whip had left behind. Closing my eyes and clenching my jaw, I slowly lifted my fingers from the sides of the tub and began unwinding the braid. Picking up the bar of soap, I began scrubbing at my skin and then did my best to reach the raised welts on my back as my thoughts tiptoed their way through the events of the last two days. Using my gift to bring Marisol back seemed like it’d happened a lifetime ago. I still couldn’t believe that King Ernald was dead. The man had been healthy as far as I knew. I hoped Ezra was okay, and I hoped she listened to me. And my mother? She would remain Queen unless Ezra married. But she was probably relieved. I was sure that Ezra was, too, knowi
ng there was a chance for the Rot to be stopped. And I…I wished I had my dagger. Ash had taken it. Would he give it back? So caught up in my thoughts, I didn’t realize that anyone had entered the bedchamber until I heard the steps outside the bathing room door.
Weaponless, I twisted just enough to see who had intruded as I reached for the sides of the tub. My heart thumped heavily at the sight of who stood there.
The Primal.
He said nothing as he stared, his silvery eyes unnaturally bright as he looked at my back. His chest rose with a sharp breath. “I cannot wait to pay that bastard a visit in the Abyss.”
Air slowly left my lungs, and I placed the soap in the small caddy on a nearby bench, letting my hands fall into the water. “Is that where he is?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
His head tilted to the side, and a long moment passed. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I thought you’d be finished with your bath.”
I forced myself to relax. “You’re not interrupting.”
“I’m not?” His brows rose.
“No.”
“You’re bathing,” he replied. “Are you not worried about me spying upon your…unmentionables?”
A dry laugh left me. “You saw far more at the lake than you can see now.”
“True.” His lashes lowered halfway as he drew his bottom lip between his teeth. “I brought something for your back that should help with the wounds.” There was a pause as he lifted a hand to reveal that he held a jar containing some kind of white cream. “This will ease whatever pain they may be causing and ensure they don’t scar.”
“Thank you,” I murmured, the words sounding strange on my tongue. I didn’t say them often. I didn’t have a reason to say them often.
Ash said nothing, but he didn’t move from where he stood. He didn’t look away, and I wasn’t sure if it was the water or his regard that made me feel overheated. Finally, he spoke. “I can help you with the ointment once you’ve finished your bath.”
I tilted, letting the strands of my hair fall forward to float on the surface of the water. There hadn’t been nearly enough time to decide how I would go about fulfilling my duty, but I had enough sense to recognize the interest in Ash’s stare. The why behind the fact that he lingered instead of leaving. “I need to wash my hair, and then I’ll be done.”
“Do you need help?”
His offer surprised me. The word no rose so quickly, I almost spoke it. I nodded instead.
Ash pushed away from the doorway, placing the jar on a shelf just inside the bathing chamber. He came forward, lowering to his knees behind the tub. Brushing his hair behind an ear, his gaze flicked up from my back to my face. “How bad does it hurt?”
I swallowed. “Not that much.”
“You lie so prettily,” he murmured. “So easily.”
Facing forward, I drew in a deep breath. “It could’ve been worse.”
“We will have to disagree on that.” The tips of his fingers brushed the curve of my arm, sending a tight shiver of energy over my skin. He gathered my hair, pulling the strands away from my shoulders. “Tip your head back.”
Glancing down at the soapy water, my breath caught. The tips of my breasts were clearly visible, and as close as he was, as tall as he would be even on his knees, I knew they were also visible to him.
The Primal of Death.
Who was about to wash my hair.
“Sera?” he said softly, his breath against the top of my head.
Another shiver curled its way through me at the sound of my name. I tipped my head back, thoughts racing too fast to really make much sense of them.
Ash picked up one of the pitchers, slowly pouring the water over the lengths of my hair. “I have some questions for you.”
“I too have questions.” My heart was beating too fast again as I sat there, struck by the instinct carved into me that demanded that I seize this moment and use it to my benefit. The other half simply had no idea what to do. A part of me was utterly bewildered by this act, transfixed by it. No one had ever done this. Not since I was a child, and Odetta had washed my hair.
“I’m sure you do.” His hand curled around the nape of my neck, supporting my head. “I’ll start first. What has your life been like these last three years?”
His question caused me to squirm. “The kind of life any Princess lives.”
“I do not believe that for one second. You are quite confident with a dagger and sword for a Princess.”
“I thought we already established that you don’t know many Princesses,” I retorted.
“I know enough to know that most wouldn’t fight a Hunter without fear or even know how to. Someone trained you,” he said, wetting the strands on the back of my head.
“I was trained,” I admitted, knowing that if I lied, it would be even more obvious that I had something to hide.
“With what weapons?”
“All of them.”
“Why?”
“My family wanted to make sure that I could defend myself.”
“You didn’t have Royal Guards to do that?” he asked. “Tip your head back a little bit farther.”
“No one wants to rely on guards. They wanted to make sure I stayed alive to fulfill the deal.” To keep my balance, I lifted my arms and rested them on the sides of the tub. My back arched as I tilted my head back more.
“Perfect. That’s…perfect,” he said, his voice rougher as water cascaded over the rest of my hair. “Who trained you?”
“A knight.” Every part of my body became aware of the water slipping farther down my breasts to lap at my ribcage. “It’s my turn to ask a question.”
“Go ahead.” Ash shifted forward, the coolness of his body pressing against my back. The rosy-pink skin at the tips of my breasts tingled.
This did not feel like those times Odetta had washed my hair. At all. My eyes drifted shut. “Did you really believe that I had simply gone about my life and forgot the deal?”
“That’s what I hoped.” Ash sat the pitcher aside to pick up one of the bottles from the caddy.
Irritation spiked. “Did it never occur to you that I hadn’t, considering you were summoned three more times?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
The confusion in his voice made it even harder to rein in my temper. “You were summoned three times since the…” Realization flickered through me. I started to face him.
“Don’t move,” he ordered.
I halted, not because he’d commanded it but because that roughness had returned to his voice. Opening my eyes, I turned my head just enough to see the heat of his gaze scorching the skin of my chest. My pulse skittered as I fought to gather my thoughts. “The Shadow Priests didn’t summon you?”
“Why would they? They knew my decision just as you did. If you came back, they would’ve either ignored the request or humored you by pretending to summon me.” He began working the soap through my hair. “But why would you or your family even attempt to summon me again?”
A prickly sensation blistered my skin as I realized I’d exposed a rather shameful secret with my questions. “I…I didn’t tell anyone what you said to me that night.”
The Primal was silent.
“I was surprised and disappointed.” I managed a partial truth. “And…and too embarrassed to tell them you rejected me.”
“It wasn’t personal.”
“Really?” I sucked in a laugh.
“It wasn’t.” He was careful not to tug on my scalp as he continued working the vanilla-scented cleanser through the strands. “You have beautiful hair. It’s like spun moonlight. Stunning.”
“I think I will cut it all off.”
Ash chuckled. “You would, wouldn’t you?”
I didn’t respond, my eyes drifting closed as his fingers massaged the strands and my scalp. Somehow, the touch eased the muscles in my neck. “You’re good at this. Do you often wash others’ hair?”
“This would be my first.
”
“Mine, too,” I admitted in a whisper, and I felt his hands still for a moment before returning to his gentle scrubbing. In the pleasant haze of his ministrations, something he said tugged at my memories. My suspicions of his experience resurfaced, but so did what he’d said about his age—about how he was younger than I would expect.
“There are some things we need to discuss once you’re settled,” he said before I could ask about his age. “But there’s something I want to make clear. You didn’t do anything wrong to cause me not to fulfill the deal.”
I opened my eyes. “Because you changed your mind and simply had no need of a Consort?”
“Especially not one who stabs me,” he remarked.
I frowned at the hint of teasing in his voice. “Are you going to bring that up continuously?”
“Every chance I get.”
“Great,” I muttered, rolling my eyes despite the rising curiosity. “Now I wish I’d stabbed you harder.”
“That’s rude.”
“Some would consider leaving your Consort to be abandoned on a throne for three years rude,” I retorted. “But what do I know?”
Ash laughed, the sound low and smoky.
My eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure what I said that could be funny to you.”
“You didn’t say anything funny.” He eased his fingers from my hair. “It’s just that you are very…outspoken. And I find that—”
“If you say ‘amusing’…” I warned.
“Interesting,” he answered. “I find you interesting.” His head tilted, causing several strands of hair to fall over his cheek. “And unexpected. You’re not as I remember.”
“You weren’t around me long enough to know who I was or what I’m like,” I said.
“What I felt when I saw you seated on that throne in that dress told me enough.”
I stiffened. “I hated that dress with every fiber of my being.”
“I know,” he said. “Close your eyes. I’m going to rinse your hair.”
I did as he asked as the pitcher scraped against the stone floor. “What do you mean, you know? And what exactly about me sitting on that throne and in that dress told you anything about me?”
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