“I’ll go to our room and get everything unpacked,” he said, and Taegan nodded. “Enjoy your bath.”
“Thank you,” he replied, and managed a slight smile as the half-orc took the bag that was slung around his shoulders. With that, Zorvut stood and made his way toward the staircase, disappearing up the steps.
The barkeeper glanced over at Taegan as Zorvut walked away, a slightly curious lift of his eyebrow the only expression of emotion he had displayed so far.
“Awful friendly for a half-orc,” he remarked. Taegan pursed his lips and nodded, glancing down into his cup of water. The less anyone knew about them, the better. “You must be payin’ him well.”
Taegan hesitated, then agreed with another nod. “Of course. He’s a very skilled fighter and has never let me down.”
The man whistled, wiping clean the wine goblet he had just emptied and rinsed. “Oh, I’m sure. Even the most desperate bandits wouldn’t want to square up with a big fella like that. That’s a good choice, even considerin’... Well, you know.”
“Of course,” Taegan agreed again, though he had no idea what the man was implying. It was a toss-up whether he was making some slight against orcs in general or perhaps the ongoing conflict between orcs and elves. Either way, he would be glad when the conversation was over.
As if answering his silent prayer, Nessie emerged from around the corner, carrying a clean towel with her.
“Mr. Alain,” she said with a cheerful grin. “The bath’s all ready for you, good and hot. Right this way.”
“Thank you very much,” he breathed with relief, hurrying after her.
“We’re lucky enough to have a soap-maker in the next town over,” she prattled in the mindless sort of tone that indicated she’d repeated the same thing in the same way a thousand times before. “So we’ve got a few different scent options, and it’s not the hard scentless stuff you’d have to order in from the city in bulk. We’ve got rose, lavender, and spearmint. The spearmint’s my favorite, if you ask me.”
They followed the hallway around a corner to a wooden door which she pushed open, revealing a small tiled room with a decent sized copper bathtub, a shelf stacked with trays of bars of soap, and a table with a few folded towels. The tub was filled to the brim with water and steaming with heat.
“Now there’s the bucket for rinsing, a clean robe for you, and a tray to put your dirty clothes,” she continued, pointing around the room. “We don’t have a full laundry service, begging your pardon, but plenty of guests just wash their clothes in the bathwater once they’re done. Any towels or robes you use, you can leave here or in your rooms, we’ll clean it up. Now if your manservant wanted a bath too, I can go haul out the oversize tub, so just let me know. Anything else I can get for you?”
“No, thank you very much,” Taegan replied, and to her credit, the woman seemed to recognize his eagerness for her to be gone as she simply smiled and nodded.
“Just give us a shout if you need anything else,” she said as she turned to go and closed the door behind her. It took only an instant for Taegan to peel off his clothes and immerse himself in the water, sending the overflow splashing down onto the tile.
The warmth of it alone was comforting beyond measure, and he closed his eyes in a brief moment of bliss. It was nowhere near as comfortable as his bath at home—he had to bend his legs to fit so his knees couldn’t be fully submerged, and he missed the familiar scent of rosewater he would often bathe in. But compared to a week on the road with no warm water at all, it would certainly do for now.
He reached for the soap, going for the faintly pink-tinted bar in hopes the rose scent would be close enough, but even as he brought it up to his face, the floral scent was barely detectable at all. A frown of disappointment crossed his lips as he put it back, instead reaching for the pale green soap. Luckily, the mint was a stronger scent, and he set to work scrubbing away the grime and sweat and dust of the past week.
By the time he had cleaned up, though, the novelty of it was wearing off and was replaced with the same bone-deep homesickness he had only just been able to put a name to. He missed his own bath. He missed his own room, his private quarters, their leisurely walks around the garden. The thought of it was so painful his eyes welled up with tears, which only made him feel more ashamed.
He liked to think he was not spoiled, but the more logical part of him knew that hemustbe—how could he not be spoiled, as a prince, the heir to the throne, an only child at that? He felt so foolish to be upset that it wasn’thisbath, but here he was, a spoiled brat crying over a lack of rosewater in a too-small bathtub. All he wanted was to go home. He tried to pull his thoughts away from the bond, shielding it from his outburst; somehow it felt even more embarrassing to think of Zorvut sensing his moment of weakness.
Taegan let himself hold on to the homesickness for a little longer, until he eventually dunked his head under the water both to wash his hair and also to destroy any evidence of tears on his face. Then he got out and dried off, and after a moment of consideration, plunged his dirty clothes into the now-tepid water. It was only a quick fix, but the water was satisfyingly murky when he wrung them out. Wrapped in a plain white robe, he gathered his things and made his way out of the bathroom, up the stairs and to room eleven.
When he entered the room, Zorvut was sitting on the floor, but sprang up quickly as the door opened. It was a plain accommodation with just a small writing-desk under a single window in one corner, a chest of drawers and a clothing rack in the other. Centered on the far wall, there were two narrow beds in wobbly looking wooden frames, which Taegan realized with a slight smile that Zorvut must have pushed together.
“That was fast,” Zorvut said, returning his smile, then hesitating. “Are you all right? You seemed... well, upset.”
Taegan winced. He must not have been quick enough to hide his thoughts. “I’m all right,” he stammered. “Just more tired than I thought, I suppose. And... I don’t know. I just miss home.”
Zorvut’s expression softened, and he nodded. “Me too,” he murmured, then gestured toward the beds. “I laid out clean clothes for you. I hope you don’t mind.”
Taegan’s heart swelled and ached. It was a small gesture, but a comforting one. “Of course I don’t mind,” he said, shaking his head. “Thank you.” He hung his wet clothes on the rack to dry, along with the robe, and put on the clean trousers and loose shirt Zorvut had set out for him.
“A bath sounds good to me too,” Zorvut said, watching him dress.
“The innkeeper said she had a larger-sized tub for you,” Taegan said as he buttoned his shirt, then hesitated. “Don’t be too long. I was hoping we could... um...”
Zorvut raised an eyebrow at that. “The walls seem awfully thin for that, Taegan.”
“No, no!” he protested, flushing with embarrassment. “Notthat, I just wanted to... I don’t know. Well, nevermind.”
Zorvut tilted his head, seeming to consider his words. “Well, I’ll still be quick,” he said simply, and Taegan nodded. His cheeks still felt warm as Zorvut stepped out of the room.
