(Refectory)
.: Free time ~ 20:00 to 22:00 :.
.: Lights out ~ 22:00 :.
Chapter 4
Itissa
Iarrive at the bathhouse first thing the next morning. Barely awake, I’m greeted by Brigit and Kiera and introduced to another handmaiden I don’t yet know.
“Tiss, this is Ana. She and Kiera will take care of you this morning.”
I’m led through the familiar hallway with its marble floors and cedar-planked ceiling. The bathhouse is pure luxury compared to the rustic communal washrooms on each floor of our residence.
I’m deposited in a private dressing room and told to undress, then led next door wearing nothing but a towel. A massive copper bathtub occupies the center of the room, the soapy-sweet aromas of lavender and rose filling my nose.
“Be quick about it,” says Ana. She and Kiera leave me to it.
After I’m scrubbed clean, I’m led back to the dressing room and seated in front of an impressive vanity. Ana sets about fixing my damp hair, her nimble fingers plaiting a tidy braid that begins at the crown of my head.
“About the sisters,” I say, hoping to get them talking. “Is it just me, or can they be severe at times?”
“It’s not just you,” says Kiera flatly, lingering by the door.
“There’s no need to be rude about it,” says Ana. Sleeves rolled up, tiny freckles dust her fair skin. Perspiration plasters bits of mouse-brown hair to her face and neck.
“You know it's true,” argues Kiera. “They’remorethan severe. They never like the new initiates, and they’re cranky with us, too.”
A protective instinct flares inside of me.“The sisters aren’t mean to you girls, are they?”
The handmaidens share a glance through the mirror, Ana subtly shaking her head. Lips pressed thin, Kiera’s reflection flashes a small smile at me. Probably meant to be reassuring, it very much is not.
“Why do you ask?” Ana’s hands weave back and forth in a well-choreographed dance, pulling my hair taut.
“I saw something two evenings ago. Someone slapped a girl in the gardens by the compost shed.” I debate mentioning the blood but decide against it.
Kiera makes a small sound in her throat. Ana secures the end of my braid before pulling a length of black satin ribbon from one of the drawers, not bothered in the slightest.
“Do either of you ever notice things like that?” I press.
“Sometimes—” starts Kiera.
Ana turns a caustic glare on her. “Don’t you have someone to check on?”
“I’m caught up at the moment.” Kiera’s voice is small, but she squares her shoulders defiantly.
Ana turns back to me with a huff. “Did you see who hit her, Tiss?”
“Sister Kerrigan.”
Behind me, Kiera goes rigid. Hands tucked into the folds of her dress, she scrutinizes the floor.
“If I were you, I wouldn’t concern myself with the sisters’ business.” Ana’s tone conveys boredom, but it seems forced. She draws the ribbon around my finished hair like a headband, looping the ends into an off-center bow.
Kiera shifts her weight. “But youknowthat Sister Kerrigan—”
“Gocheckon yourcharges,” orders Ana, her tone resonating sharply. She watches Kiera’s reflection as her counterpart exits, waiting for the door to shut before continuing. “Listen, Tiss, if it doesn’t involve you, then don’t worry about it. Just keep your head down and mind the rules. Everything will work out as long as you do that.”
