“I’m actually the Wheel,” I say dryly, giving a bow with a sarcastic flourish. “Death would be your brother, and I’m rather offended by the comparison.”
Kaelis laughs—it’s light and far more joyful than any sound I’ve heard from him in ages. I’m taken aback by it. Though it’s gone before I can blink.
“Fair point,” he concedes, still smiling as he sets down his goblet. “Though, there is one similarity you share with my brother: You look terrible.”
“How charming. Is this how you greet all your guests?”
“Only the ones who show up looking as if they’ve been crawling through sewers.” Given the past few days I’ve had, I can’t believe he’s trying to joke about this. But I suppose if we don’t laugh, we’d just cry.
“Funny you should say that…” I move toward one of the chairs at his table.
“Don’t you dare.” He holds up a hand, stopping me mid-step. “You are not sitting on one of my chairs likethat.”
“Excuse me?”
“You stink and are covered in the Twenty knows what,” he says bluntly, but there’s no real cruelty in it. “I already had to scrub your blood from one couch you nearly ruined; there is no hope for the velvet if you sit now.”
“This is my greeting? After everything?” I fold my arms. “I’m going to think you like your luxurious appointments more than me.”
“Did I not hold you in the tunnels despite your state?” His expression softens ever so slightly.
I can’t stop myself from glancing away, the reminder hitting me like a physical blow. It was only a day ago. A day ago, Jura died, and now I’m standing here. We’ve hardly had time to mourn—hardly even to think. I inhale slowly and force the thoughts away. If I let them overcome me now, they will overwhelm me completely.
“I’m sure you burned the coat I clutched and sobbed into,” I mumble.
“I absolutely did.” He stands with a weary smile. Even in the most casual clothing I’ve ever seen him in, hair mussed, nails bit down to nubs, he carries himself like royalty. “Come.”
“Where are we going?” I ask as he approaches.
“To get you cleaned up.” He pauses at my side. “Unless you wish to remain…pungent.”
“A bath would be lovely.” I follow him back through his room and into the closet with the hidden door I entered from. The entry to his bathroom is opposite the secret passage.
Memories of the last time I bathed here flood back unbidden. The massive marble tub, the gilded fixtures, his expensive soaps, soft towels made from some fiber that I’m not certain even grows in Oricalis. Everything’s just as it was then, the time he stripped me down so gently and—
I freeze at the thought and force my hand to stay at my side, rather than pressing into the golden card that’s still hidden between the boning of my fraying corset.
Oblivious, Kaelis moves to the tub, turning golden taps. Steamrises as hot water cascades. He adds a few drops of something that fills the air with the scent of lavender and covers the surface of the water in bubbles.
“You really don’t have to do all this.”
“I really do. When was the last time you had a proper bath?” He glances over his shoulder, nose scrunched in a playful way.
“I can take care of it myself.” All I can think of is getting him out of here as quickly as possible, and then I must hide the card. If he sees—if he realizes I’ve been carrying the real golden Death card all this time—he’ll know I switched the cards.
That I’ve lied to him.
“You’re exhausted, you’re hurt, and you’re—”
“If you say I stink one more time…”
“—in desperate need of care,” he finishes, giving me a look that makes my chest tighten. “Let someone take care of you. Letmetake care of you, Clara. For once, just…let me.”
The vulnerability in his voice undoes me more than the demand itself. I’m suddenly acutely aware of how much I’ve missed this—not just the luxury, though I did miss that, too, but the way he looks at me. Like I’m something precious, delicate, even. Instead of seeing all the deadly and jagged edges of the broken woman I’m turning out to be.
He cares. And still I’m standing here, lying to his face.
“Fine.” I sigh softly. “Do you still have any of the clothing you made for me?”
