Oh. I knew some highlights of her backstory, but not this part. Her parents had run a prosperous inn in another city. The family was well-off and respected, and Galiene had grown up in pretty dresses and dainty shoes, learning how to keep the books and manage a thriving inn. The future looked bright until her father had witnessed something he shouldn’t have, and the entire family was slaughtered to keep them silent. Only fifteen-year-old Galiene survived. She bought a tattered cloak from a beggar and walked all the way to the capital with what little money she’d managed to grab, sleeping in the woods and eating whatever she could buy or scrounge. It took her almost three weeks. I had no idea she’d ended up at the Garden barefoot. Her pretty shoes must’ve fallen apart.
Galiene fixed me with her cold stare. “That night changed my life. Today the Divine tapped me on the shoulder to remind me of the kindness I had been shown.”
That’s right. Galiene was devout.
The dominant religion in Rellas and on most of the continent revolved around the Divine, a genderless, benevolent supreme being. If you were virtuous and good, the Divine would reward you with another life. If you were a horrible person, your soul would fall into the Void and be torn apart.
Their theological doctrine held that worshiping the Divine directly was impossible, since no human could comprehend the eternity of the Divine in its entirety. Instead, the faithful worshiped Aspects of the Divine, defined by their function: the Artisan, the Warrior, the Scholar, and so on. Galiene worshiped the Host, the Aspect of Hospitality, just like her parents and siblings had, and she was deeply committed to honoring her chosen Aspect. It was her last link to her murdered family.
“I will show you the same kindness,” Galiene said. “You may stay here for one night. In the morning, you will have your breakfast and then you will be on your way. The Host will know that I haven’t forgotten her blessing, and I’m still grateful. You will do well to remember that my gratitude has limits. Do not abuse my hospitality. Klemena will show you to your room once you dress.”
She turned and left the room. Klemena moved out of her way, bowed to me, and followed Galiene out.
I wouldn’t have to go out on the streets in the dark. I wouldn’t have to deal with human predators. I would sleep in a real bed and leave in the morning, in daylight.
The relief was so overwhelming, I would’ve collapsed if I wasn’t already sitting.
I would survive tonight.
CHAPTER4
It took me another fifteen minutes to crawl out of the bath. I had tensed up when Galiene entered the room, and once she left and the tension drained out, fatigue mugged me. I was so tired. Getting out of the bath became a matter of life or death because if I stayed in any longer, I would’ve fallen asleep and probably drowned. I would likely come back to life, but I didn’t want to tempt fate.
Despite my earlier pledge to empty chamber pots, Kair Toren enjoyed advanced indoor plumbing, complete with ceramic toilets, sinks, terra-cotta pipes, and classic labyrinth-like sewers under the city. I discovered a toilet with a wooden seat behind the small door. And toilet paper. I had never been so grateful to find a little basket of toilet paper sheets folded like napkins in my whole life.
Butt napkins. The essence of luxury.
I remembered reading a giant discussion about toilet paper on the fan boards. For some reason, certain people had been very attached to the idea of chamber pots and corncobs. They claimed that anything more advanced would be unrealistic. Personally, it never bothered me. In our world, the Han had used toilet paper since the sixth century, and China mass-produced it by the 1300s. Rellas had advanced architecture, metallurgy, and magic, and it manufactured massive amounts of paper to power its bureaucracy. Toilet paper seemed like a surmountable challenge.
I got out of the bathroom, washed my hands at a sink in a small alcove, and looked through the stack of clothes Klemena had left. When a thin pair of panties slipped through my fingers, I almost cried in happiness.
In Rellas, like in many feudal societies, forms of address communicated how dangerous you were.Lordandladymeant landed nobility, many trained and well-armed fighters, and a solid chance of getting killed if things went badly.Siranddamemeant a knight, a highly skilled, professional soldier, also a high probability of injury and death.Terrandtress, on the other hand, were reserved for ordinary people, merchants, tradesmen, artisans, anyone without formal military rank or a noble title.
The clothes Klemena had brought me placed me firmly into the tress category. The outfit started with a dark green chemise, a thin, loosely fitted underdress. The sleeves looked like something that had popped right out of a medieval movie: trumpet shaped, with a drawstring casing running along the forearms. Pulling the string shortened the sleeves to above the elbow, leaving the arms bare, which was probably handy for cooking and cleaning. I left the sleeves down.
Over the chemise, I wore a simple sage-green gown, which I had promptly put on backward on my first try. The dress had a deeper neckline, so about an inch of the chemise showed above it. Its bodice laced on the sides to adjust fit, and its loose ungathered skirt came down to my ankles. The fabric felt like a sturdy version of linen.
The dress came with a built-in bra, which seemed to have an underwire of some sort. Its short sleeves ended right about where a T-shirt sleeve would hit. The left sleeve had a small inner pocket on the inside of the arm, just big enough to hide a few coins. I slid Everard’s den into it.
The simple cloth shoes with thin soles were a little loose on my feet, but I would make do. A gray cloak completed the outfit. It featured a deep hood and a large inside pocket with a grommet in it to which you could chain your purse. I hid the rest of my money there.
I had asked for an outfit that wouldn’t make me stand out, and neither the clothes nor the shoes looked new. The color of the dress had faded, the hem of the cloak had frayed, and the shoes had grime stains, the kind that form on fabric after frequent use. I didn’t care. Shoes were amazing. Clothes were pretty up there, too. And the boost of confidence I got from no longer running around literally butt naked was truly priceless.
I braided my hair into a simple plait—I hadn’t seen a single woman with a ponytail or a plain bun—tied it with a bit of string I pulled from the cloak’s fraying hem, and looked in the mirror.
Good enough.
“Klemena?”
No answer.
Hmm. I opened the door. The short hallway was empty. My attendant had vanished.
I eyed the door at the other end of the hallway. Behind it lay the main floor of the Garden and all the wonders and dangers it held.
Hiding in the room and waiting for Klemena would be safer, but there was magic beyond that door. I had no idea how long I would be in Rellas. For all I knew, whatever force had brought me here could yank me out of this world and hurl me back into my own bed at any moment. Even if I was stuck in Rellas, once I walked out of the Garden tomorrow I would probably never return. I simply didn’t have the money. This was my only chance to take it all in. If I missed it, I would kick myself for the rest of my life.
I walked down the hallway, edged the door open, and slipped out.
