Page 59 of Between Wrath and Mercy

“No, Theo. We are on our way to petition King Soren for aid.” I made an assumption that Nana had explained everything. When I didn’t sense any confusion, I figured I must have been right. He only nodded before clearing his throat.

“Alright. I came to check on Mistress Imogene. She said she’d be back by sundown.” I whirled to Nana.

“Mistress Imogene?” I was incredulous. She’d never let us speak her name before; even the royalty who were currently staying in my house hadn’t been privy to the information. Lavenia stopped washing up to turn around and stare at the old woman as well. I heard Rainier’s booming laughter coming from the study where I forgot he’d been bathing.

“Youstill call me Nana, girl.” She held herself in a way which tendered no argument, and I felt myself smile. She walked over to Theo and took his arm. “The boy can escort me.” Theo’s cheeks flamed, and the tips of his ears reddened to match.

“Thank you, Theo, for everything. Where did you bury them?” I lowered my voice, not sure if Nana knew about the less pleasant details.

“Mairin dealt with it. She burned them and sold the bones to a witch.” I felt my jaw drop. It didn’t surprise me she would take charge, but to burn them and sell the bones? That was something I wouldn’t have imagined in my wildest dreams. Theo shrugged. “I suppose she’ll bring you the money tomorrow. The whole town knows the prince is here.” Anxiety twisted in my gut at the thought, the remnants of a life spent in hiding.

“I’ll be back in the morning, Emmeline.” Nana’s hand touched mine on her way out the door, her veins and liver spots more prominent than I remembered.

Chapter 21

IshowedLaveniaandDewalt upstairs to my room, and they were beyond pleased to sleep in a bed. I took a moment to grab a few things I would need before bidding my friends good night and shutting the door behind me. Lavenia was already in bed, eyes closed, and Dewalt seemed as if he wasn’t far behind her. She was probably still exhausted, as I was, even if Dewalt had helped take some of her pain earlier that morning.

I trudged back downstairs with my robe and nightgown, torn between taking a bath and sleeping, but ultimately the dried blood and drool I found in my hair was enough to encourage me to bathe. The door to the study was open, and as I walked in, I saw Rainier refilling it for me, the rippling water hovering and sparkling in the low lamplight. He hadn’t put on a shirt, and I watched light and shadow caress his skin, the muscles in his back taut as he bent over the tub, putting something in it from Nana’s basket. The scent of lilacs and violets hit me, and I sighed, closing my eyes. He shot me a small smile over his shoulder before he stood, brushing past me on his way out, with one of Elora’s books in his hand.

He closed one of the doors behind him, leaving the other slightly ajar. I felt bad, knowing he couldn’t sleep until I was done, but since he had been filling the tub for me before I came in, I knew he’d insist. I eyed the trundle bed underneath the window with my pillow on it. I knew it wasn’t comfortable; I should have given him better accommodations, but I wanted Elora’s bed, even if it was selfish.

I undressed, carefully laying Rainier’s shirt on a chair by his pack, careful to avoid walking in front of the door. I heard him fiddling with the wood in the hearth before he walked back across the room, evidently aiming to settle down in an armchair and read. I wondered which book he had picked. I laid my nightgown and robe on the table by the door and turned back, distracted by whatever Rainier had poured in the bath. It had turned the water milky-white, and dried purple petals floated on top. I lowered myself in, groaning in bliss. The water was hot, so much hotter than my normal baths. Usually, by the time I’d finished filling the beast and was finally able to relax within it, it was barely warm. Especially if Elora bathed first. I tilted my head back, submerging my hair. It was the first time since I left my parent’s house that I’d had an enjoyable bath. I pulled myself to the other side of the tub and hung over the edge to examine everything Nana had supplied. I heard footsteps and Rainier clearing his throat from the door. Glancing over my shoulder, knowing I was covered by the milky water and my hair down my back, I smiled when I saw the back of Rainier’s head. Although he had seen quite a bit of me when I was too exhausted and hurt and disgusting to care, he still positioned himself to give me privacy. As he faced the main room while leaning against the door frame, I was able to fully appreciate the long line of his body, the tapered muscles of his back, and the firm backside I could see through his pants. I drew myself out of the trance and cleared my throat before responding to him.

“Yes?” His back flexed as he crossed his arms, and I watched him greedily, thankful for the opportunity to look at him without fear of being caught.

“You sounded like you were in pain. Is your headache back?”

“It never left, but the noise was actually a good one. This bath is lovely, thank you.”

“All I did was bring in the water.” He turned then, still leaning against the door frame, keeping his eyes averted. I grabbed one of the glass bottles I recognized as being for my hair, a bar of lilac soap, and a washcloth. A cool breeze came through the open window as I moved to lay back, a hiss escaping my lips as I sank down into the water. Rainier must have felt it too, because he was in the room shutting the window in an instant. I sank even lower, chin almost in the water, as he turned around.

“It’s still hot, though.” I almost felt pathetic admitting I hadn’t had a hot bath in a long time. Thankfully, he seemed to know what I meant by the way his eyes softened as his gaze met mine. The moment was fleeting, over the moment he quickly looked away, taking a step into the main room.

“Which book did you choose?” He stopped, settling back to where he leaned before, this time not bothering to avert his eyes. I busied myself and poured some of the contents of the bottle into my hand, lathering it in my hair, making sure only my arms lifted above the water. The scent of lavender permeated the air. The soft florals mixing together wasn’t overbearing as I might’ve thought, but instead relaxed me.

“I picked the one with dragons on the cover. I didn’t get to start it before I was worried aboutsomeonebeing hurt.” His eyes twinkled with mischief, and I tried to shake the feeling that he was tracking every movement I made. I tilted my head back, rinsing the suds from my hair, and I felt his gaze on the long column of my neck.

“Oh, that’s a good one. The girl falls in love with a prince, but he’s cursed. He’s the dragon who scours their lands. I’ll let you get back to it.” He quirked a brow as I smiled at him. Suddenly feeling shy, I spun in the tub, turning my back, effectively dismissing him. I needed to wash, and I wasn’t feeling that daring.

When I heard him settle down in the armchair, I lathered my washcloth with the lilac soap, inhaling deeply. I’d always preferred this soap, while Elora liked the citrus bar. Lucia had liked one made with cucumber water, and I decided to ask Nana to make it for me, just so I could smell it again. Tracing the cloth over my injured arm, I noticed even the scabs were gone: four faint red lines were the only evidence remaining to show I’d been hurt, not even a day after the attack. I washed my face and the rest of my body, paying special attention to any tenderness where I’d been wounded the past few days. Once again, I sifted through my memories, attempting to think about injuries I’d had in my past. I had a few scars on my hands from cutting them while cooking, a slight burn on my forearm from losing the grip on a stew pot I was attempting to move, and of course, there were the scars on the bottoms of my feet. I would have thought if I could heal myself, those especially would have been a target of my divinity. I was almost certain at this point that unless I sent my healing toward a specific location, it only did the work itself if I was on the verge of death. I believed it had saved me twice now, in childbirth and after the onaán. I took a moment and stared at the old burn on my forearm, willing my divinity to heal it. I wasn’t too hopeful, but I couldn’t help my disappointment when the scar remained. With a sigh, I began pulling a comb through my hair, taking considerable effort. I always preferred to comb my hair wet, making defined waves rather than frizz. Considering how long it took me to comb out, I was pleasantly surprised the water was still warm by the time I finished. My headache had dulled a bit, just barely there behind my temples. I suspected the relaxation was helping and decided to lay my head back and close my eyes for a bit, enjoying the warmth.

“Emmeline,” I heard Rainier’s voice, and my eyes snapped open. “Did you fall asleep?” He was leaning against the door frame again, arms crossed, with a glint of amusement in his eyes and a hint of his crooked smile. I sat up with a start. Judging by the water temperature, I must have done exactly that. It wasn’t cold, but it was nowhere near as warm as it had been when I got in. Glancing down, I realized whatever had been making the water milky was starting to fade or settle to the bottom, and if not for my hair, my breasts would be perfectly visible if Rainier came any closer.

“I did.” I grimaced as I realized my robe was across the room. I didn’t want to track water throughout the study, especially since Rainier would be sleeping in here. “Sorry. Would you—can you hand me my robe?” He started for the garment I’d left on the table by the door. “Close your eyes!” I added.

In a hilarious pantomime, Rainier held one hand over his eyes and brought the robe to me. I snatched it out of his hand and pushed him toward the door as he chuckled. Once I was out and felt sufficiently dry, I took my robe off and put my nightgown on. Walking past the window, I realized he’d want to empty the tub, so I opened it. He must have been listening for it because the second he heard it, he sent the water out, the stream barreling straight for me. I jumped aside with a curse and heard him laughing on the other side of the door. When he was done, I shut the window and went out to the main room with a glare plastered on my face. He peered up from his book, a picture of innocence, as I walked to the other side of the dinner table, headed for the pitcher of water I’d filled earlier, half tempted to dump it on him.

“Thirsty?” He shook his head no. I glanced at the book in his hand, noticing how little he’d read. “You didn’t get far. Did you not like it?”

He turned his chair toward me, away from the lamp sitting between the two armchairs. I was suddenly self-conscious in my nightgown, realizing I’d left my robe in the study. The fabric was thin and had holes in some places, so I drew my arms protectively over myself.

“I’ve been distracted.” He rubbed a hand over his face then, oddly agitated. It surprised me because he’d seemed rather pleasant when he woke me and handed me my robe.

“By what?” Something clenched in my stomach, fear or anticipation I wasn’t sure which.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day.” I felt my heart lurch, knowing exactly what he was referring to. I was afraid if we kept rehashing everything, he’d change his mind about helping me with Elora.

“And?”

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