She practically ran all the way back to the palace and to the women’s bathhouse.
As soon as she was in the apodyterium, she shed her clothes and examined her side. A few small bruises in the shape of Clelia’s fingers, just like she expected. The warm water would help. As she stepped into the tepidarium, she could see through the steam a few figures already in the water.
She easily ignored the other women there, only three of them. Although one of them openly glared at Aimilia. A shorter woman with rich brown hair and sharp blue eyes. One of thecommanders from Nikias’ class that wasn’t married. She was welcome to him.
Aimilia usually tried to only use the bathhouse when no one else was around, not for the reason Marcella did—which came from her foreign sensibilities of it being immodest—but Aimilia avoided them mostly because she’d always found the female Runai to be their most vicious when their clothes weren’t on and the steam was filling the room.
But with all the important Runai in the city and the commanders in the city all judging the tournament or patrolling in the heat, Aimilia wasn’t going to be able to avoid anyone else. Unless she went at midnight.
Tempting, but she was already there and her clothes were already set aside, so she slipped into the water, taking the spot farthest away from the other women who were all in the midst of their own hushed conversation.
When she heard her name in their whispered tones for the fifth time, she debated going under and drowning in the scalding water. Instead, she dropped the braid she’d been carefully undoing and turned to them and said, “If you have something to say to me, I’m right here. But if you’d rather continue behind my back, can you at least get out of the water so the rest of us can bathe in peace?”
The woman from Nikias’ class shifted forward, sending ripples through the water. “I was saying, I don’t see it.”
“See what?”
The other woman took another step, but the steam still obscured her features slightly. “Why His Highness would rather waste his time on a twiggy brat who couldn’t even find a way to keep a filthy she-wolf from seducing and stealing the inferior brother in the first place.”
She wasn’t even clever. Aimilia had been hearing these insults from jealous, inferior girls for years. Only…
It had been before Marcella. Before Gavril had proven them all right.
Aimilia hadn’t been enough.
All along, she’d been second best, and when better came along, Gavril no longer had to pretend otherwise.
However, their insults being accurate enough to reopen her scars didn’t mean Aimilia was going to let them know it.
“How about you go ask him yourself because I certainly don’t have a clue. But…” Aimilia pushed off the wall and walked through the water until she stood in front of the shorter woman. She crossed her arms across her chest and used her height to her advantage. “Keep calling Princess Marcella that and I’m not even going to have to tell Nikias how you’re disrespecting the woman he owes his life to. But that should be the least of your concerns. I’ll be more than happy to take on the honor myself of showing you the consequences of such disrespect. I watched your graduation tournament. Do you really think you—who came in by one point in second to last place—are any match forme?”
Aimilia might not have much that made her desirable as a wife, but she wouldn’t let anyone take away her prowess as a mage.
The woman stepped back, eyes widening, likely remembering exactly how Aimilia had performed.
At her silence, Aimilia grinned and moved back to her spot, resuming her work on her hair. “That’s what I thought. Now, I suggest maybe you wonder what it is about you that Nikias found so forgettable he chose Faustina over you.”
The other women weren’t the only ones who could be vicious when in the water.
It wasn’t long before they were all gone and Aimilia was left to her blissful silence as she ran her fingers through her hair, free of her braids, and began the work of cleaning herself up.While she’d done no hard labor, just sitting in the sun and heat had done a number on her.
Not to mention the hot water easing the ache in her side. At least the bruises were small. Aimilia was also a decent healer. While healing one’s self was much harder than someone else, she was confident she could manage the two bruises so long as she could reach them. She’d have to twist her arm awkwardly and be in front of a mirror, but it was possible.
Then no one would ever know.
She wouldn’t let it happen again. She was not off limits to the queen anymore.
At least Clelia had said nothing that indicated she was suspicious of Aimilia, or anything about her husband and his failing health.
If the queen was still pushing for answers, how long would it take before she found something connecting Aimilia to that night?
If Clelia did, a few little bruises would be the least of Aimilia’s concerns.
Aimilia climbed out of the water, wrapping herself in a towel and stepping back into the apodyterium, changing into a spare chiton before gathering up the rest of her things.
With her hair still damp and spreading to the shoulders of her chiton, she left it down to keep drying as she walked back to her room.
What she hadn’t expected was to leave the bathhouse to see the sun was in the middle of setting or to see Nikias leaning against one of the columns, arms crossed as he watched the sky above.
