“You believe I can do things when you don’t even know me,” I said.
Nikola tipped a little vial of oil into the water. The scent of roses filled the washroom. “What reason have you given me not to believe you can, as you say, ‘do things’?”
I blinked as the steam curled up at my face. When I swirled the water, beads of oil danced along the surface. “None, I suppose. But I haven’t proven myself to you.”
She took a brush from the little table beside the tub and ran it through her long hair, paying close attention to the ends. “Regardless, my sentiments shouldn’t matter.”
“They do,” I admitted. Keen to avoid any response to that, I dipped my hair under the water and surfaced sputtering.
Nikola handed me a sliver of soap. “Don’t wait for people to believe in you, or you’ll die waiting.”
Working the soap into my unruly hair gratefully, I considered her words. I wanted to matter. I wanted to be trusted, admired, believed in. I always had, whether I’d been able to admit it to myself or not. But those urges had made it easy for the House of Industry to control me and influence my way of thinking. I’d fought so hard to follow the rules and prove myself worthy.
But the alternative—simply believing in myself—sounded lonely. And impossible. Especially when the greatest strength I seemed to have was channeling my anger into violence.
“I see you frowning. It isn’t an equation; it’s a process. You won’t sort it out tonight.” Nikola stood. “I’m going to tell the boys to carry freshhot water up for their turn. When you’re finished, you can wear this to bed,” she said, draping a long-sleeved cotton gown over the chair beside the tub.
When she left me alone, I spent a bit longer in the water, reheating it in increments as I used the soap to scour every bit of my body. I hadn’t felt entirely clean since leaving Sterling City, and on our journey from Cascade, I’d felt positively filthy. My skin glowed a harassed shade of pink when I finally toweled off and pulled on the long nightgown. The hem trailed on the ground and followed me like a bridal train when I left the washroom.
I’d already become so accustomed to the goings-on in the gambling hall that, at first glance, I didn’t pay any mind to the boy kissing another boy frantically against the wall.
Then I recognized the shape of the boys. Ezra’s hands mapping the tense lines of Julian’s back, Julian’s long fingers in Ezra’s hair, pinning him in place. Heart racing, I held my breath, feeling warmer than I had in the bath. I’d never watched anyone kiss before. I wondered if I looked like that—wild and hungry and a little frightened.
When I couldn’t hold my breath any longer, I sucked in a small gasp, and they both froze before springing apart. I had the decency to look down at the scuffed wooden floor as they sorted themselves out, smoothing down their clothes and whatever else had grown unruly.
“You’ll need to fetch fresh water.” I found myself babbling, too flustered to dart away gracefully. “Ezra, I wish you could heat it over and over like we can. It feels like the hot spring.”
“You took her to the hot spring,” Julian intoned.
“It’s scenic,” Ezra said, laughing—and a little breathless.
I tried to make my escape, sliding by them in a hurry, but Ezra took my billowing sleeve. When I stopped, questioning with a glance, he pressed his lips to my cheek. It wasn’t quite a kiss, but it wasn’t … not a kiss either. “You smell good,” he murmured, breathing on my skin, before humming my name ever so softly. When he let me go, I tried not to trip over my nightgown. My face tingled absurdly where his mouth had touched me.
“Come on. Let’s get you some hot water,” Julian said, tugging Ezra down the hall. “Though I think you ought to have a cold bath.”
When I glanced up, worried Julian was cross with us, I saw him failing to hide a small smile. Relief washed over me. Though none of us had discussed the way we’d braided ourselves together, it made sense in my heart. And seeing Julian’s fond amusement, I had a feeling it was starting to make sense to him, too.
Feeling feverish myself, I ducked into the room where we’d be sleeping. Needing suspiciously little convincing from Nikola, a cheerful brunette named Columbia agreed to stay in Nikola’s bed to give the three of us space to rest. Her room was small, but the bed was big. She’d stripped the sheets and replaced them with one large clean blanket. After our days and nights traveling, I’d never seen anything as welcoming. Even with all the swaths of fussy lace hanging from the walls and ceilings and the strong scent of perfume that lingered on everything, it felt cozy.
Taking advantage of the time by myself, I leaped onto the mattress and spread my arms and legs wide. I filled as much of the bed as I could, my gaze on the circular water stains on the slatted ceiling above. It was no mystery to me what people usually did on this bed, and the notion made my heart race. Abruptly, I recalled the way Julian and Ezra had looked in the hallway. Shivering, I tentatively ran my hands down the front of my nightgown the way Ezra’s fingers had stroked Julian’s back. My touch felt like radiance, but there was no magic to this. Only the simmering heat they’d left in me. I chased that heat, curling onto my side and around my busy hand until my breath came fast and I had to press my face against the pillow to muffle the sounds I made. When I was done, I rolled onto my back and drifted in a floaty daze, delighted to have learned an entirely new skill.
I was sprawled like that, my eyes having drifted shut of their own accord, when the door opened and Julian startled me awake.
“One bed,” he observed dryly.
I sat up, snapping my mouth shut to stop myself from laughing atthe sight of Julian in a nightgown that certainly did not fit him. The thin white fabric stretched across his chest. He glowered.
“It’s a big bed,” I said, strained. At least he didn’t know how I’d passed the time waiting for them. “We can sleep head to feet if you prefer.”
“Why would I prefer that?” he asked in a way that did not invite me to answer. He crawled into the bed and took the edge, turning his back to me.
Flickering candlelight made the room feel quieter. I curled toward him, keeping my arms tucked against my chest. Daring to close the distance between us, I pressed my face against his back. It made me feel warm inside in a different way than touching Ezra did. “Julian.”
The muscles of his back twitched, but he didn’t inch away. “What?”
“Do you really believe what you and Nikola are creating can make the House of Industry obsolete?”
He nodded silently.
