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I take a breath, and then another. This is fine. The candles will be easy enough to snuff out, which will create plenty of darkness to hide in. I could use the shadows.…

My stomach lurches and I have to close my eyes and concentrate on breathing for a few beats as the memory of that unrelenting darkness slams into me. If I try to use the shadows to move, will I end up back there? The thought makes my entire body break out in gooseflesh. I might know how to get out now, but there’s no reasoning my way through the fear demanding I avoid that uncanny place.

“Champion Moon?”

“Yes?” I look to where Sophia stands next to a table about the size of my bed back in the temple.

“I’ll step out so you can undress. You can put your clothing and weapons here.” She motions to a low bench I missed on the first pass. “Please lie face down to begin.” She moves around the room, lighting one additional candle on each table. Almost immediately, a scent permeates the space, something soft and soothing that unclenches my lungs a little more with each inhale. It doesn’t make sense. My brain is still spinning wildly, but my body relaxes, one muscle at a time, until I feel loose and almost relaxed.

“Let the candles do their work.” She smiles sweetly. “You champions have gone through so much. We’ll take care of you. Just lie down and relax. I’ll be back in a short time.”

I could protest. I should protest. If there’s one thing worse than potentially fighting for my life in this closed space, it’s doing it naked. But sunset is still hours away, and I’m so incredibly tired of fighting.

With a deep sigh, I begin to undress. The bench is against the wall farthest from the door, only a few feet from the table. In a pinch, I can roll off and grab my sickles. I won’t be helpless. No matter what tricks the Swords attempt, this is still preferable to what the Wands did to us. Still … a fly trapped in honey is just as dead as one swatted out of the air.

I fold my clothes and set the sickles carefully on top of them with the handles facing me, ready to be picked up in a rush. “I hate this,” I whisper. I knew the Trials would be difficult, but I didn’t expect to loathe the violence so much. I didn’t expect that violence to spread to those I care about most in the world.

I slip beneath the smooth blanket on the table, and the moment I lie down, the scented candles seem to increase their vibrancy tenfold. My body goes fluid and strange. The sensation finally increases to the point where it wraps around my brain, making my thoughts slow and fuzzy. Fool that I am, I don’t immediately get dressed and rush out of the room. I just lie there and float.

A sound makes me turn my head—slowly, oh so slowly—to find the candles now lit on the other side of the pale fabric dividing the room in half. Low voices reach me, but I can’t quite understand the words spoken. It’s only when the scent of candles intensifies and the door shuts that I fully register there’s another champion on the other side of the divider.

The light of the candles gives me a hazy view of a tall figure with broad shoulders and … Oh gods, it’s Nero.

I try to tense, but the command gets lost somewhere in translation, and I can only lie there helpless as his shadow strips out of his shirt and bends over to remove his pants. My heartbeat picks up, but that’s the only reaction my forced relaxation will allow. That and a short inhale.

There’s no way Nero should be able to hear it over the gentle lapping of the water in the pool, but he turns toward the divider, the movement lacking his normal rigidity. “Kestrel?”

I part my lips to answer, but the door opens and Sophia slips back into the room before I can. It’s for the best. I’m not thinking clearly with the scent given off by the candles muddying my thoughts and instincts.

The sensation deepens and Sophia rubs warmed oil on her hands and begins my massage. I can’t think with her deliberately unwinding my tight muscles. By all rights, having a stranger touch me like this while I’m so vulnerable should have me tensing in panic, but the fear can’t penetrate the glass wall surrounding me. I can see it; I know I should be experiencing it, but it can’t reach me.

At some point, Sophia guides me to roll onto my back and gets to work on my neck and the front of my body. It feels good. Too good. She pauses at my upper thighs. “Would you like…”

Understanding dawns, slow and sticky. I shake my head minutely. “No.” I deeply respect the Rubies, but I can’t accept that kind of service like this, sharing a room with the Tower, separated by only a sheet. I clear my throat. “Thank you, though.”

“Of course.” She smiles. “Close your eyes. I’m nearly finished.”

I don’t make a conscious decision to obey, but my eyes close all the same. She finished with my legs and spends a little time pressing light circles to my temples with her fingertips. One last stroke over my head and her touch fades away. I’m distantly aware of the door opening and closing as she leaves the room.

It’s so tempting to just drift, but my survival instinct isn’t entirely dampened. Sleeping when sunset is only a little while off is foolish in the extreme. I force myself to move, to slide off the bed … only to nearly land on my ass when my oiled feet meet the tiled floor. This isn’t going to work. With a slow look around I find a short box with glass bottles positioned next to the inset bath.

It takes twice as long as it should to pad to the edge and step down into the hot water, but once I’m submerged to my hips, it’s difficult to keep the fledgling urgency that pushed me to move. I sink onto the curved stone seat, its height perfect to bring the water to the bottom of my chin. The sensation created by the candles and the massage increases until my body is so loose, I might float right away.

“Clever of them.”

I don’t startle. I’m too relaxed for even that little response to Nero’s voice. “I hate this.” I roll my head just enough to look through the flickering shadows of the divider. I can’t see Nero, but he sounds too close for comfort. Close enough to be in the bath just on the other side of this flimsy cloth. A shiver goes through me at the thought.

“Which part?” He speaks quieter than I’ve ever heard him, his tone all taffy-soft warmth.

“All of it.” I turn my gaze back to the ceiling, belatedly noticing that it’s tiled as well. The candlelight flickers over the varied blue squares in an almost fanciful way. It’s pretty. Everything in the bathhouse has been pretty and soothing. I wish I’d had money to come to a place like this before, to bring Mara before she … My chest goes tight. “Nothing in this place is what it seems. No one is. Everyone lies and plays games and expects you to do the same.”

“It doesn’t matter what everyone does.”

I blink slowly. “Of course it matters. They have the power.”

“Even so.” He shifts, his voice changing as if he’s facing the cloth between us now. “You can’t control what they do, Kestrel. You can only control what you do, who you are. They can’t take that from you, no matter what games they play.”

“I don’t want this,” I whisper. “I entered the Trials for answers, to make Caelria a better place for the people who have no voice or power or money. I don’t want to have to murder and speak in constant circles because if I don’t, people think I’m a fool and can be walked over without a second glance.”