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But if it’s between being Junis’s slave or Ryther’s queen, I’ll wear a gaudy, heavy headdress and smile through it, too.
Ryther only stares. Right now, I wish I could read what he’s thinking.
Before my widening eyes, his mouth actually opens in an all-out smile.
Well, Darina. I suppose you’ll do.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
POKING THE TIGER
Darina
I follow Ryther through pitch-dark archways and bare corridors, until we make it to his idea of a bathroom.
I don’t know what I imagined, but certainly not a pool carved in blue crystal streaked with gold, large enough for everyone who just left to sit comfortably, without anyone brushing elbows.
I glance back toward the entrance—like everywhere else in this cavernous house, it doesn’t have a door, but Ryther left after guiding me here.
There’s no servant to poke and probe me, which I appreciate, although I’m not sure how to remove the contraption I’m bundled in. I impatiently pull the threads until the fabric finally gives, falling at my feet.
I climb the four steps leading up to the edge and risk a toe. Given the sheer size of the pool, I would have thought that the murky water would be just as cold as the ones my attendants had used to wash me at Junis’s, but it’s just as blissfully, blisteringly hot as I set it when I take a bath at home. Delicious warmth spread through my flesh and bones. I moan in pleasure.
I knew uncomfortable temperatures don’t truly affect me. Sure, I dislike being too cold or too hot, but it’s nothing more than an inconvenience. When we used to ski, my sister would shiver, lose her voice, be unable to move if we stayed out too long, while the cold was only a vague annoyance that I could brush aside if I was otherwise entertained. I would have washed no matter what—after Junis, after Valdred, after the lake, I need to—but I didn’t expect this level of luxury or comfort.
I should revel in the wonders this water does to me, but I’m feeling restless, out of sorts, though I can’t quite pinpoint why.
It might have a thing or two to do with, I don’t know, being stuck in a strange world with strange people, most of whom wouldn’t hesitate to hurt me if given half a chance.
The pool’s large enough for me to swim, and I can’t imagine there are any laws against it, so I dive under, entirely submerging myself.
I stay under for at least three long breaststrokes, basking in the heat, only emerging at the opposite edge, close to the white wall.
I blink several times, confused by everything I see for a moment.
For one, there are two bare feet, attached to strong, muscular legs, and I’m halfway through my exploration of those thighs, when I think to look away rather than let my gaze keep going up.
He’s here. Barely feet away, at the edge of the pool. And he’s not wearing much of anything, by the look of it.
Duh, Rina. That’s what people do in a bathroom.
I could and perhaps should muster the appropriate amount of outrage, demand to know what he thinks he’s doing here, but two things stop me in my tracks. First, the fact that, as I observed, there’s plenty of room for the both of us, but secondly, and mostly, all my energy is directed toward another shocking thing.
His cock. I mean his cock. And not only because it’s there, and huge, and most definitely hard. But because I know this cock. I’ve seen it before. I would have sworn it was the same one from that other night behind the alley of Night Hall.
I’m desperate to ask how, why, I would have seen him there. He wasn’t truly there. But my entire face is on fire, and I’d rather shoot myself than bring up that vision.
Then again, I don’t have to tell him exactly what I saw, do I?
I clear my throat.
“So, it might sound strange,” I hedge, forcing myself to look down as he enters the pool.
I can’t miss the fact that the wet hair clinging to my skin is decidedly not blue. It’s back to its usual shade, too dark and reddish to be true blonde, not warm enough for red; the deep russet I’ve known all my life. My hands fly to my ears, palming the sensitive curve, and I could be wrong, but it does feel rounded.
Normal.
As if everything I saw earlier had been nothing but a bad dream.
