Will his soul rest?
Relaxing my fingers, I let my hands float in the water beside me. My tears make rivers on my cheeks, but the steam from the bath sweeps them away. The warmth of the water brought me comfort when I first climbed in, but now it feels like an insult to my home. To the people freezing on Alyssium. Ravaged by what the rebels have done.
Callum still hasn’t told me who survived, and I’m a coward, afraid to ask.
I grab a tonic Isolde left beside the bath and pour some into my hand to wash my hair and hurry my cleaning.
The people back home would sacrifice so much for a bath like this. The water here doesn’t chill the longer it sits. It heats through to the bone.
While they freeze and suffer, King Malachi’s kingdom is brimming with opulence. It’s a testament to how insulting the Crown’s shipments are.
I glance at the window, wondering how lush the trees are here. In the dungeon, I could smell the vegetation. A few roots jutted up through the ground, ripping apart the stone. How much do they have while the humans suffer?
“Why can’t I see out the windows?” I ask loudly so that Isolde might hear me from the other room.
“The king prefers it this way,” she answers, rounding the corner.
It’s a strange preference. While the windows let in light, they lack depth.
“Are you done?” Isolde stops at the tub with a towel, and I nod.
I’m careful not to slip as I climb out, and Isolde wraps the towel around me. It’s awkward, as I’ve never had help with anything as simple as bathing. But I don’t want to insult her.
Her gaze pauses on my cheek, so I brush my wrinkly fingertips over it.
“Did I miss some dirt?”
She shakes her head, and her eyes refocus like she was lost in thought. “No, I was admiring your freckles. I’ve never seen anything quite like them.”
“My freckles?” I’m aware it’s rare for Fae to have scars, but I assumed freckles weren’t unique to humans. Maybe I was wrong.
“Mm-hmm.” She spins on her heels. “I’ll gather tonic to smooth your hair.”
Isolde leaves the chamber again, and I walk over to the mirror, leaving a wet path in my wake. It’s been since Alyssium that I’ve seen my reflection, and I’m thinner. My eyes are hollowed out. Yet, somehow, my skin is pinker, and there’s brightness in my cheeks.
My silver eyes shimmer.
But my attention is on my freckles. The three dots on the apple of my right cheek. They form a wide V like an arrow pointing downward. And somehow, they glow like stars.
Chapter 10
Elorie
Isolde slipsa Tempest silk dress over me. The fabric is so sheer that, depending on how I move, my legs are exposed. It’s intricately threaded, with blue tones that are those of the night sky just before dawn. Dark as night with the hint of morning breaking through when it shimmers.
The dress carefully covers my most intimate parts while still being revealing. In front, it dips below my belly button and cinches. It breezes around my legs, shining like starlight every time I move. Grazing my fingers over the silk, I’m met with the most exquisite texture.
Letia would sacrifice her entire wardrobe for one of these dresses. And while the dress is impractical, and I’m nearly bare, this is the most beautiful I’ve ever felt.
Isolde smooths my hair, which hangs in long waves down my back. Two braids at either temple tie it off my face.
“Has your hair always been blue like this?” She weaves her fingers through the blue ends of my snow-white hair.
“Since I was three.”
It’s been ingrained in me since I was young to always hide theunique color in my hair, so it’s an adjustment to have it on display. With the tonic Isolde put in my bath, the blue is brighter than it’s ever been.
She brushes the strands, and I fight the urge to hide them. Especially now that I know my hair likely didn’t come from a tonic as I was told. I’m half-Fae. The daughter of a prisoner who, for all I know, is still locked in that labyrinth.