Page 15

The maid, after a timid knock, hovered in an open doorway and murmured, “The room is ready.”

Behind her was a private bathing chamber, considered a luxury since rough, communal facilities were normal on the frontier. But after the silent hour I’d spent with Kion, each of us in our own thoughts, the chance to bathe was a surprise and a needed distraction.

“Is there anything more you need?” the maid asked.

“This looks lovely,” I said.

Kion grunted as he glanced around, but I wasn’t interested in soothing him. After being captured and dragged back to Thales by the King’s Guard and red priests, he should be used to his life not working out the way he wished.

Two oval tubs faced each other, filled with steaming water.

A curtain hung between them, pushed to one side, while a stack of towels waited on a chair.

Lanterns glowed from niches and candles clustered on a wooden table, dripping globs of white wax.

Light danced across the walls while the soft shadows filled the corners with intimacy.

My skin itched from days of sweat mixed with salt and grit.

Kion glanced at his damp clothes, and the maid stared at the shackles, then offered to help him.

She pulled scissors from her pocket, ready to cut his shirt—a courtesy, considering that the shirt could not be removed while the shackles remained around his wrists.

If my mating custom had been real, I should have suggested the cutting, or removed the shackles entirely. But I’d done neither, and my face heated as I took the scissors.

“I’ll help him.”

The girl’s smile was quick and sharp. She was old enough to appreciate a man’s naked chest, and I’d deprived her of the pleasure.

But then her head bobbed as she made a small curtsy. “As you wish. Leave your clothes. I’ll have them cleaned and returned to you by morning.”

I asked what we would wear in the interim. She pointed toward the garments stacked beside the towels.

Once the girl was gone, I faced Kion. “She expects us to be intimate after that kiss.”

He scowled. “I wanted the men to shut up.”

“I’m sure another round of ale would have calmed them down.” I parroted his earlier remark; he was not blameless with that kiss. His lips had lingered against mine as if he enjoyed the taste, the heat.

“There are two tubs, and the water will cool if we don’t bathe at the same time.” I forced the words past the knot in my throat. “You can leave the shirt on if you wish.”

“Cut it,” he said. “I can’t stand the smell.”

“I’ll ask for laces in the morning.” Refastening the shirt was the least I could do, since I wasn’t dragging him back to Thales half-naked. And the shirt was the style that could easily be laced.

Kion braced while I cut the material at the arms and shoulders. The shirt slid down his torso to his hips, and I left the material there. He could push it the rest of the way, if those bulging biceps were as strong as they looked.

Kion didn’t move. Was he even breathing? I’d never known a man who stood with such stillness. Muscles banded his back. Scars marred his skin, most of them old and wicked. I didn’t like the way my hand lifted, or how I wanted to trace each gouge and ridge as if I could heal the wounds.

I fisted my fingers and walked around him; the action was a test of self-control. Kion narrowed those unreadable eyes, and not for the first time did I wonder what kind of magic he had when it sank beneath my skin like cool water.

I guessed the bruises purpling his skin were from the beatings. Around his throat and glinting in the candlelight was the curse tablet. I stared for a moment, questioning the motives of a rebel who wore the evidence of his guilt like a charm.

What failure was so great that he carried it for all to see?

I turned away, closing the curtain, paying attention to my clothes, tugging the soiled shift over my head and wrinkling my nose at the lingering stench.

I removed the leggings and rolled the undergarments with the shift.

Peeled the soiled bandages from my feet.

I didn’t need them, didn’t want to keep thinking about them.

Thinking about his hands, so gentle on my skin.

I stepped gingerly into the steaming tub, but nearly sloshed water everywhere when Kion pushed the curtain wide.

He stood there…nude, beautiful, powerful.

Brutally male, and breathtaking enough that if I saw him as anything other than the enemy, I would surely fail.

Although my definition of an enemy had wavered more in the last several hours than I could explain.

Scrunching down, I didn’t stop until bath water lapped beneath my chin. Kion was oblivious as he stepped into his own tub, dunking his head, then shaking the water from his silvered hair.

He leaned back. Moisture beaded on his shoulders, then ran in trickles across his chest. His hands rested on the tub rim.

The cold metal shackles glinted like an abomination around his wrists.

But I wasn’t staring at the metal. I stared at the bath water that lapped against his skin.

The shimmer of reflected light that moved each time he breathed.

This Angel of Death…I wanted to ignore him. Or spite him with some clever insult.

But the words would not form. Tiny muscles tightened in my stomach.

Beneath the water, my toes curled, and every reaction irritated me.

Why in Orm’s name was I staring?

I closed my eyes, shutting out the sight of him. The ache eased from my muscles. The soap smelled of roses and mint. I scrubbed and rinsed my hair twice, wringing out the long ropey strands. Started scrubbing my knees since they poked above the water .

Kion did the same. He was too large for the tub, and like me, his legs were bent. His knees protruded, and something intimate about that bothered me. Looking away, I asked, “Why did you open the curtain?”

He wiped both hands across his face; water spilled from between his fingers. “Why did you close it?”

“Privacy.”

“Nudity doesn’t bother me.”

I focused on my knee, where the skin had reddened from all the washing. “I suppose it’s common where you come from, parading around without clothes.”

“I don’t parade.” He sluiced his face again. Leaned back to rest his head against the tub. “But if you feel better throwing insults, go ahead.”

“The King’s Guard captured you near here,” I said, remembering Nikki’s story.

“Yes.”

I braced my foot on the tub rim and scrubbed my toes. “Were you searching for something?”

“Someone who was missing.”

“Did you ever find him?”

“Yes. He wasn’t the only one, though.”

My foot splashed back into the water and I started on the other foot. “Were they lost? The ones you were looking for? Or were they hiding from you?”

“Both.”

“They came through the Wall?” When he failed to answer, I glanced up. His eyes had closed, but he wasn’t sleeping.

He was avoiding .

“How long has the magic been fading?” I asked as I scrubbed harder. “I’d say a long time, if my father found a way through the Wall.”

“Or someone told too many stories while deep in his ale,” Kion answered with his eyes still closed. “People here like to talk. There’s little else to do.”

“The men sounded sure of themselves. But my father never mentioned being near the Wall, although he told plenty of stories about his time in the desert. Why would he keep it secret? If he found holes in the magic, wouldn’t he risk his life by not warning the king?”

Kion Abaddon opened his eyes and stared at me. “What do you know of your mother?”

His masculinity was horrendously intimidating when he was nude, even submerged in a bath, and I almost lost my concentration. “She died when I was very young.”

“What was her name?”

“Anoria.”

“Do you resemble your mother?”

“Probably.” Water splashed as I shifted my weight. “I don’t look like my brother. Not like my father, either, so the hair and eyes had to come from somewhere.” I dared to hold his ruthless gaze. “But maybe a little like my brother, if you think I’m a skinny boy.”

Kion’s mouth twitched with a reluctant smile. “Nikias has a different mother?”

“Her name was Revna, and I considered her my mother, too. She did her best with me when I was a strange child. They both died, my father and Revna. During the last Malice Moon. A freak accident. Nikias is all I have left of my family.”

“You must be lonely.”

Talking about it made my throat ache. “We have each other.”

“Is that enough for you?”

“You get used to what life gives.” My lips pressed together as I twisted away.

“My father wrote down everything important in his life, but he never wrote about a portrait of himself, pinned on a tavern wall in the Black City. A town of renegades who hate the king. From more years ago than I’ve been alive. That’s odd, don’t you think?”

“You told me he researched in this area,” Kion said.

“Researched. As the king’s man, with sworn loyalty. He never mentioned breaking through the mage magic around the Faded Lands and coming back with a woman who might be my mother.”

“Rumors aren’t proof, Senaria.”

I pushed my hands through the water, creating swirls and eddies.

“But I have to think about it now. Question the details I took for granted.” The beat of my heart grew heavy.

“Because if it’s true, then what he did was a crime, and if my mother was with him…

” I sucked in a slow breath. “Did you come here searching for her?”

“I didn’t know your mother.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“You don’t want an answer.”

Nerves jittered at the brutal truth .

I moistened my lips. “I suppose you’re right. Because the answer complicates things, doesn’t it?”

Kion’s voice deepened as he asked, “In what way?”

“If my mother came from the Faded Lands, Tarian would never forgive me.”

“Is the king’s forgiveness so important to you?”

“For Nikki’s sake, it is. His safety. And mine.” The wavering candle flames drew my attention, the way the colors danced, yellow, rose, the faint thread of smoke.