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Ulva studied Eirah’s face, squinting as she scanned her over. “You should wear your hair down—it accentuates your heart-shaped face.”
Eirah didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing—villagers never said anything about her face or noticed her unless they wanted a custom piece made.
Ulva unfastened the buttons of Eirah’s dress. No one had undressed her since she’d been a child, making this the first time she’d ever been pampered.
Once Ulva reached the last button, Eirah said, “I can take care of the rest.”
“Are you sure you don’t need assistance getting dressed after?” Ulva asked, picking up the basket.
“No, but thank you.”
Eirah removed her boots and walked into the bathing chamber, which was larger than any of the rooms in her cottage. A porcelain clawfoot tub was filled practically to the brim, light steam wafting from the water. At the back of the room stood a massive ivory vanity and a rectangular mirror decorated with golden snowflakes. Blue and white curving patterns were etched into the walls, looping and swirling. In front of the tub rested a spotted fur rug and the two fluffy towels that Ulva had left.
Shutting the door, Eirah peeled out of her clothing, and an unpleasant stench struck her nostrils. She was surprised Ulva hadn’t mentioned anything, but the servant seemed incredibly polite. Far from what Morozko was…
Eirah stepped into the bath and released a low moan as she lowered herself into the warm water. She sank beneath the liquid, holding her breath as she thought about home, wishing she had gotten to say more before leaving. Spend a little extra time with her father and Saren.
She broke through the water’s surface and sighed while grabbing a juniper soap bar. As she washed, she tried not to think about the king or the fact that she was only making herself luxurious before her impending death if she couldn’t get her hands on a weapon.Lovely.
“I wonder what the village is saying about you now, Eirah?” she said to herself. “Most likely, why did the king choose the girl who speaks to herself and not someone of true beauty?Bah.” Rolling her eyes, she slammed down the soap.
Once she was clean and no longer smelling as though she rolled around in the hay with livestock, she pushed out of the bath and draped a fluffy towel around herself. She stared at her dirty dress on the floor, wanting to put it back on to irritate Morozko, but she also didn’t want to smell like an animal again. However, she wouldn’t put on the rumpled dress he’d left her… one that had been left behind from a pleasurable night.
Ulva didn’t say Eirah couldn’t take something from the wardrobe, and she was staying in thebirdcageroom after all.
She opened the door, whistling to herself as she padded into the bedroom to collect a dress, when her gaze drifted to the bed and settled on a lithe form sitting on it, his back leaning against the headboard.
“What are you doing in here?” she shrieked, snatching her cloak from the chair and wrapping it around herself. “I thought you didn’t demand my presence until supper!”
“Decided I would bring you breakfast.” Morozko smirked, motioning at the basket of rolls beside him.
“I’m surprised you didn’t bring me someone’s hand,” Eirah said through gritted teeth. “You could have said you were here through the bathing chamber door, you prick.”
His features tightened, the only indication that he was annoyed. “If you had allowed Ulva to stay and dress you, or brought the gown I gifted you, we wouldn’t be in this predicament. As for the hand, the mortal knew the rules.”
She furrowed her brow. “Why are you lingering? Is it time for you to put your blade to my throat?”
“I won’t be sneaky about that. You’ll know when, little bird.” His gaze swept over her, rooted to her mouth for a moment. “I’ll see you tonight at supper.” He looked at the dress on the bed before scanning her over once more. “But if you prefer to wear the towel instead, I won’t mind at all.”
The king quirked a brow, and she narrowed her eyes.
“I look forward to dining with you,” he said. An unpleasant smile tugged at his lips that she wanted to rip away. He then turned on his heel and sauntered out of the room.
She clenched her jaw and picked up the basket of rolls before throwing them at the door as it shut.
“I heard that, little bird,” Morozko cooed from the other side of the door.
Tightening her fists, Eirah grabbed a simple blue cotton gown from the wardrobe and slid it on. She then shoved the used dress off the bed and drew back the covers, slipping beneath them. There was nothing else she could do in the room besides sleep or stare at the fire and wall.
For most of the day, Eirah remained in bed until a clink against the glass of the balcony door sounded. She sat up, squinting at the glass. When the sound came again, she stood and hurried to the door.
Eirah drew it open, finding nothing at first until her gaze fell on a snowy-white owl perched in the corner of the balcony rail. “Adair,” she gasped. “You’re back? It’s not even nightfall.”
The owl cocked his head and studied her. He then held up a foot where something green and black rested in his talons. An olive branch.
“A gift?” she asked, carefully taking it from him, hoping not to scare him off. “Can I pet you?”
He lifted a wing and her eyes widened—he’d always kept his distance before. Yet this was twice now that he hadn’t. With a smile, she stroked her fingers across his pale feathers. They were the softest thing she’d ever felt, more so than even silk.
