I put the empty glass aside. “Thank you.”
“You can trust me. I take care of those who need help, even wayward humans. Besides, the king has taken great interest in your recovery.”
That tore through my insides.The king?
“He’s my brother.” She studied my face. “You really don’t know where you are, do you?”
I shook my head slowly.
“This is Ashvar Keep, our stronghold. You’re in the Sanguir realm.”
I had no idea Sanguir had kings. The books I’d been allowed to read painted a rough portrait of the other realms. This land was ruled by warlords. Kairos must have delivered me to one.
A bitter taste flooded my mouth. Worthless faerie.
“I’ll send word that you’re awake,” she murmured. “And we’ll get you ready for the king.”
Fear knotted inside me. My last encounter with a royal had left me alone in a cell, sentenced to die. Now I was expected to walk into a room where a king waited?—
She hooked an arm around my elbow. “Come. You’ll feel better. I promise.”
I braced myself, trying to summon the girl who’d slipped past countless guards, but the room tilted when I took a step.
“I can see you’re scared,” Elwen said gently. “But you need to bathe before meeting my brother.”
The thought of walking anywhere with a fae’s hand on me made my skin crawl. But gods, I ached. My whole bodywas sticky with sweat and grime, my hair a nest of knots, stiff with dried blood. Every part of me itched.
A real bath.
Warm water, washing all of this away. I wanted it so badly, I could cry.
I let her escort me outside. The keep rose from a cliffside, hewn from dusky stone veined with quartz. Red and black banners snapped in the wind. Stark against the morning drizzle, twin statues crouched at the gate in silent vigil—Ashvarral, god of war, wings half-spread and eyes gleaming. She steered me away from the keep, toward the tree line where the forest swallowed the light.
My bare feet slid against the soft red earth, the ground cushioned by moss and scattered with glimmering stones. Wooden posts etched with runes ringed the space, glowing faintly.
I followed her down a path winding into the forest. Sulfur clung to the air, the scent strengthening when we wandered into a clearing. Several baths stood side by side. Steam spiraled from clear pools framed by mossy rocks. Tiny motes of light hovered above the surface, catching the glow of the rune-carved stones.
Back in Skalgard, a bath was a chipped basin filled with frigid water if you were lucky. If not, you scrubbed yourself raw with a damp cloth and prayed the dirt came off.
“Here we are,” Elwen said. “Go on, then. Take off your clothes.”
I hesitated. “Where are the bathing chambers?”
“Why bother with flimsy tubs when we have this? Trust me, human, this is so much better.”
I eyed the steaming pools. The warmth called to me, whispering promises of relief, but I couldn’t let my guard down.
“Come on,” Elwen murmured.
A group of fae stood near the edge of the pools—four of them, dressed in simple white robes cinched with green sashes. They moved quietly, preparing oils and cloths. Elwen’s healing attendants, probably. Young fae with the same focused calm as their mistress, their hands filled with supplies.
“Don’t just stand there. Give her space,” Elwen muttered behind me. “Tell the king we’re getting her ready, and have the cooks prepare something for the human.”
I unwrapped my arms and reached for the hem of the shift. It clung to me, but I peeled it off and handed it to an attendant.
Warm air kissed my bare skin, and I wrapped my arms around my breasts.
I stepped in, my breath hitching as the warmth climbed higher. My muscles clenched, then softened, the tension melting away with each step.
