Page 36

Carmen enters, her gaze darting around, scanning the room not with awe but suspicion. Her eyes flick toward the corners as if expecting God knows what.

I frown, wondering where the switch is, seeing nothing other than a strange belt with runes etched across the buckle. The symbols remind me of something... Oh, right. The text I’ve seen on the alien’s blue wrist computers.

“You press that,” Sandra says, catching my hesitation. She gestures at the rune-inscribed belt buckle. “And make sure you turn it to the right, or you’ll end up freezing.” She giggles, returning to scrub herself under the hot spray.

“To the right, got it.” I repeat, doing as she says.

Instantly, a powerful jet of warm water hits me in the face, and I squeal in delight.

The sensation is heavenly. “God, it feels like forever since my last shower,” I groan, leaning into the stream as I twist the dial for more heat.

“Hmm,” I hum in satisfaction. The warm droplets feel good, each one a tender caress, but I want it hotter, so it can wash away more than just dirt—something deeper, the bad memories clinging to my skin.

Carmen approaches the statue beside me, but it’s hard to be sure through the thick vapor swirling around us.

“You okay in there, Princesa ?” she asks, her voice sounding oddly distant through the mist.

“Never better!” I laugh, wiping water from my eyes, feeling wonderful as the torrent soothes my body and mind. The temperature is only now reaching levels I’d call warm. But I want it even hotter. Turning the dial, I grimace, realizing it won’t turn any further.

“Ugh, my dial’s broken.”

“You break it, you buy it, chica ,” Carmen tuts, stepping closer with a smirk. She reaches out to check the dial on my side. “ Hijo de puta !” she snatches her arm back with a pained shriek.

“What happened?” I ask, startled by her reaction as she clutches her hand against her chest.

“What do you think happened?” Carmen snaps, rubbing the back of her hand furiously, which now looks redder than usual.

“Your water is malparido scalding!” She sucks the back of her hand as I grimace, thinking Carmen isn’t so tough after all.

“How can you stand there? You must have lizard skin, chica !”

“Lizard skin? Really, Carmen?” My grimace shifts to narrowed eyes of anger.

“Really? I’ll have you know my skin is as soft as a velvet cloud.

I didn’t spend a fortune on the finest skincare products money can buy, just to be called a fucking lizard.

Rude bitch.” I shake my head with disdain—the absolute nerve of this woman.

But of course, Carmen only laughs, “ Perra , you must’ve bought lizard creams!

” heightening her own amusement. Ugh , who laughs at their own jokes?

“ Roja !” Carmen calls out to Sandra, who’s been minding her own business, washing her freckled ghost-like skin.

“You think our Princesa has lizard skin?”

“Lizard skin?” Sandra pauses, blinking in confusion as she looks between us.

“Don’t ask,” I snort, folding my arms, annoyed that Carmen is ruining this fun experience for me.

This shower would be perfect if she wasn’t here and I could nudge this lovely heat up a touch more.

But like everything on this awful ship—it’s tainted.

“Carmen thinks the water is scalding, when it’s clearly not.

” I roll my eyes, knowing the gesture is likely lost in the thick steam swirling around us.

“Oh,” Sandra nods, the freckled lightbulb of her mind switching on. “It does look hot.” Her eyes sweep up and down the cascading waters with a scrunched face, looking annoyingly cute doing so. “Let’s see,” she mutters, moving her hand towards my stream so slowly, I’m tempted to yank her closer.

“ Aww !” she squeals in pain, recoiling as if stung by a bee.

I grimace looking at her sucking her fingertips, the only part of her that even touched the water.

They’ve planned this—Carmen and Sandra conspired to play some trick on me.

I’m tempted to ask Kazumi, but she’s likely in on this stupid joke too.

So random.

“That’s boiling, Alexandra,” Sandra insists with surprisingly convincing concern on her face and tone. She is a good actress; I’ll give her that.

“Sure, sure,” I mutter, already bored by this stupid farce. “ Haha , very funny. Lukewarm water is actually scalding. Yes. You’re both hilarious.” I turn away from the tiresome pair, my voice dripping with sarcasm and contempt.

Sandra just shrugs, turning back to her washing, while Carmen lingers with a foreboding smirk. “ Princesa ... lizard skin,” she taunts in a low, teasing hiss, mimicking a snake.

“Shut up, Carmen!” I snap back, so done with this stupid joke. This is too close to those horrible years in boarding school—the old, cruel nicknames echoing through the halls of my memories— Heifer, Bigfoot .

Never again.

I’m relieved to see Carmen turn away, though she’s still wearing that annoying smirk, far too pleased with herself.

But I force it from my mind, enjoying the sensation of the water hitting my face and head, and trickling down my body like a gentle, liquid massage.

I never thought I’d miss something so mundane as a shower, but I guess being abducted and shoved into a prison cell will do that.

The sound of falling water mixes with sighs of relief and groans of pleasure, filling the steamy air around us. I scrub away the grime and stink of captivity, savoring the feeling of being clean again. A clean slate, a fresh start for this new life I’ve been forced into.

“This is class,” Sandra murmurs, eyes closed as the water streams through her long ginger hair.

“Yep,” I agree with a relaxed sigh, “If only we had some products.” I glance around, struggling to pierce the thick haze of steam, squinting to make out my surroundings.

All I see is a flat wooden or stone object resting to the side.

“No soap, no conditioner, not even body wash.” Ah, I can almost smell the fruity and floral scents if I close my eyes.

“Use this,” Kazumi’s voice surprises me, snapping my eyes open. She holds aloft the strange stone-like object. “To scrub skin,” she adds, running it across herself, leaving shocking reddened skin in its wake.

“Please,” I hold up a halting hand, “That looks more like a torture device.” I scoff, wondering why everything to do with the Clown-dathians involves pain.

“Maybe it’s a comb?” Sandra suggests, holding the object up to examine it before running it through her hair with a wince.

“If only it had some teeth,” she says with a frown.

I don’t know why they’re wasting their time.

Stupid thing probably unclogs the drains and they’re rubbing it all over themselves.

Barf .

“Makes a nice shank!” Carmen chimes in excitedly.

I peer down at her grimacing, seeing her stabbing the air like it’s a dagger.

Of course, why am I not surprised? Our nice shower, now a weapons store for our trigger-happy Carmen.

“I’ll hang onto this,” she adds, grinning, while I force down the urge to tell her to stop being an idiot.

Thud!