Page 26 of Realm of Thieves

I swear his warm brown eyes narrow at me. He is not a fan of baths but he needs the Midlands volcanic stink and itchy salt of the voyage off him, not to mention the dried suen that’s been sun-baked into his coat.

I slowly walk around the room, taking it all in. I’m sure to the Kolbecks it’s just a bathroom, with the toilet in the corner half-hidden by a gauzy partition, the tub in the middle with wooden steps leading up to it, and a shelf that houses a bunch of glass jars filled with salts and herbs and liquids. But I’m also seeing the polished pink finish of the floors and the energy that flows through them, the copper-tiled ceiling that matches the bath, a long marble sink below curved mirrors lined with dragon eggshells, the gilded arches above a stained-glass window.

I peer through the blue stained glass—a motif of stars in a daytime sky—and open it a crack, the gold hinges creaking. Cool air flows inside and I breathe in deeply. That scent of the umberwoods and clear, fresh running water fill the room. The sun is gone now, hidden from this side of the keep, and the scenery looks surreal. All those tall green trees, the flowering fields, the rushing waterfalls, and the craggy snow-capped mountains in the distance look as if someone enchanted painted them, a world that I could have never even imagined. Even when teachers at school would talk briefly about the other realms, the idea of a forest when all we had in Esland were prickly shrubs, scrawny nut trees, and the occasional palm that dotted the capitol buildings, was beyond anything I could have dreamed.

Lemi whines from behind me and I when I look back at him he’s gesturing to the tub with his muzzle.

“All right, I get it, I stink,” I tell him. I walk over and turn on thetaps and then while the bath takes time to fill, I try to decide on what to put in it. Solla had mentioned salts, and I remember my father used to put salts from the mines outside Lerick in his bathwater after he had a long day fishing. Said it helped the muscles. Would probably be nice when my womb is having a flare-up, though it seems to be behaving for now.

I dump in a fistful of salt from one of the glass jars on the shelf, some dried flowers with fragrant yellow and dusk-blue blooms, watching them swirl on the surface, until I think the water is high enough. Then I disrobe, discarding my dirty armor on the floor. I’ll need to wash that too, after.

Gingerly I climb up the steps and then balance as I dip my toe in the water. It’s hot but not scalding, and the combination of the rising steam with the cool air coming in through the window makes me quickly sink into the water.

It’s heaven. Or some version of it, anyway. I can’t remember the last time I had a proper bath. Of course we bathe, even in the Dark City, but water is scarce, sacred even. Occasionally we’ll have a warm bath, but more often than not, Ellestra will meet me at the shore after I’ve returned home from a raid, and we’ll dip into the ocean, using bars of fat soap to get clean—even though the salt only makes you itchier after. But it’s better than nothing.

At the thought of her, my heart squeezes as if my chest has grown too small. She’s in the caverns of the city right now. She’ll be worried, she’ll be asking around if anyone has seen me, dangerous questions that might attract the wrong people. Then what will she do? Make peace that her niece is gone, the last connection to her brother, my father? Will she seek vengeance? She’s a fiery one, not unlike me. She might do something stupid. In some ways I hope she just forgets me. But I know that won’t be the case, not when she went through so much trouble to sneak me out of the convent.

And if Ruunon notices my absence and finds her? Then what will happen?

It’s enough that it feels like I can’t get air in my chest. I close my eyes and sink deeper into the water, breathe in and out through my nose until I feel remotely in control again. I used to have these moments of panic right after I escaped the convent, and it was my aunt who taught me how to calm myself down, even though she never used this technique on herself.

There’s no point thinking about these things right now when I can’t do anything. I have to do what Andor says, whether I like it or not—at least until the next ship leaves and we can get to Esland, like he promised. I will hold him to that promise. By any means necessary. I don’t care if I have to kill him to get my way.

After I finish washing my hair with the peppery-smelling liquids in the jars, the water is no longer so hot. I get out of the bath and then coax Lemi in. He does so reluctantly, though he seems to relax a little once I start rubbing the liquid soap on his coat. By the time we’re both done with the bath, it’s black from dirt.

I wrap a large fluffy bath towel around me, my hair wet and loose around my shoulders, while Lemi shakes, water flying across the room. I suppose we have left it a bit of a mess.

When I’m walking over to the wooden rack to grab more towels, there’s a knock at the door.

I freeze, hoping it’s not the creepy uncle as I hold the towel tighter around my chest. “What?”

Silence for a moment. I suppose I’m not acting with the best manners.

“It’s Andor,” he says. “Are you decent? Can I come in?”

I glance down. There’s not much showing except my arms, legs, and cleavage.

“Yeah, I’m decent,” I say.On the outside, anyway.

I warily move over and unlock the door and open it.

His eyes immediately go to my chest and widen.

“You said you were decent,” he stammers, and I swear I see a flush of color above the stubble on his jaw.

I shrug. “Good enough. Can I help you?”

“I can come back,” he says quickly.

I roll my eyes and open the door wider. “Just come in, then.”

He hesitates, then strides inside the bathroom. I close the door behind him. If I’m supposed to feel some sort of shame or wariness about being around him while practically naked, I don’t feel it. For some reason, I can’t imagine him hurting a woman in that way.

At any rate, Lemi would be on him in a second.

“Now that you’re here, does your sister have the ability to, say, move things with her mind?” I ask.

He gives me a crooked smile. “That’s putting it mildly.”

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