She took it from me, then placed it aside.
“How long have I been sleeping?” I asked.
“Many hours. It’s afternoon now.”
“Afternoon?” I’d lost almost a whole day. This wasn’t good. If we wanted to make it back to the tower before the spell killed Prince Merek, we’d have to hurry. But I was only starting to feel normal again.
“Where’s Raj?” I asked.
“He went to visit his family.”
“His family?” My insides roiled, and I wasn’t sure if it was from my wound or my nerves.
“Yes, they’ve planned a feast tonight to celebrate his return. Are you feeling well enough to attend?”
“I’m not sure.” I stretched my arms, my fingers, shaking out my legs, testing out my body’s strength.
“I managed to stitch your wounds internally. I also applied a curing tincture made from the magical zahra blossoms growing in the frost fields. Without it, you would have bled out. You had already lost so much blood, I’m surprised you made it this far. But now, you should be quite recovered.”
I glanced at my clothing. I still wore my dirty questing robes. The blood had dried on my gown and stiffened the fabric. Smoothing the hair away from face, the greasy strands tangled in my fingers.
“Anahita, would it be possible for me to bathe? Is there a river nearby?”
“I’ve a bathing chamber in the next room. Perhaps we’re not as unsophisticated as you might think.” She winked.
Embarrassment made my cheeks grow hot. I hated being ignorant.
“I’m sorry. I’m afraid I know very little of your people or your ways after the wars.”
She took my hand. “There is no need to apologize. We’re a lost civilization for sure, and we’re not the sophisticated people we once were, though I should say, we still like a warm bath if we can have it. I shall have hot water and clean robes brought to you, if you’d like.”
“Yes, that would be wonderful.”
“Very good.” Looking from my face to my hair, she pursed her lips, as if deep in thought. “Blue robes, with silver trim, yes that would do nicely.”
“My clothes don’t need to be fancy,” I said.
She gave me a knowing look, as if she was privy to a secret. “Oh, but I believe it should be special for you.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve known Raj since he was a child. He would run through the streets with bare feet and that smile that lights up his face. You know the one, yes?”
I had to laugh. He had a charming smile. Sometimes too charming. “Yes, I know, but what’s this got to do with my clothes?”
“He’s never looked at a girl before, much less cared for one the way he cared for you.”
My heart pattering, I glanced away from her. “Then you misunderstand. He was only trying to save me. He would’ve done that for anyone.”
“Nay, child. I saw the way he looked at you.”
I exhaled to steady my breathing. “He doesn’t think of me in that way. He told me he prefers Outlander girls.”
“No. He prefers you, that is why he shall see you the way he ought to—in the robes of an Outlander. You will look splendid.” She tapped her chin. “The turquoise jewels for your hair. Yes, that will do nicely.”
I wasn’t sure I liked where this conversation was going. “But I’m not an Outlander. Dressing as one won’t change that.”
She only smiled. “We’ll see.”
She took the bowl and left the way she’d come. I stared at the canvas overhead, wondering how I’d gotten to this point. Our journey hadn’t gone at all as expected, and my feelings for Raj had grown deeper than I cared to admit. Did I love him? I didn’t know, but I knew I cared for him—probably more than I ought to.
Anahita thought he cared for me, and I didn’t disagree, but I had no clue if his feelings ran deeper, or if I was a mere infatuation until he found a more suitable Outlander girl.
It did no good to worry about it, so I attempted to put Raj from my mind. Several women entered the room carrying buckets with steam rising from their surfaces. They gave me polite smiles as they held the buckets and crossed to the opposite chamber. Sounds of pouring water came from the room.
Gritty sand coated my skin and clothes, and I only hoped I got the opportunity to burn my gown and breeches at the earliest opportunity. After the women left, I pushed up from the pallet, my muscles weak and protesting. I managed to sit upright, then stand, and walk across the room.
As I moved, the exertion helped clear the fog from my head. I lifted the flap leading to the next chamber, and stepped into a warm space, where a copper tub sat amidst stacks of folded drying cloths. Shelves sat around the room’s perimeter, their timbers lined with jars of soap pearls that shone iridescent in the firelight coming from a fire pit opposite the tub. The honeyed, smoky odor of incense hung heavy in the air.
I searched the stacks of soap pearls, testing each one, some smelled like spice, others like flowers. I settled on a bottle of blue-colored pearls that smelled of jasmine, then turned to the tub.
Removing my clothing was more of a chore than I’d anticipated, and I winced at every movement. Although my wound no longer ached, my sore abdominal muscles felt as if they’d been torn apart.
After tossing aside my last shred of clothing, I stepped into the tub and sank to the bottom, the water level with my chin. I wasn’t sure if anything in my life had ever felt so heavenly.
I soaked until my fingertips turned wrinkly, and then decided I’d better wash before the water went cold. Picking up the glass of soap pearls, I poured a handful into the water, then worked them into my hair until I created a lather.
The dirt and grime of the past week of traveling sloughed off—and I imagined letting all my past pains go—my insecurities at
