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Ryther sighs deeply. "It's soap, mixed with a muscle relaxant, a calming spell to help you sleep, along with rowanberry essence to strengthen your defenses against enchantments and mental attacks. And I didn't answer because the rest is irrelevant and harmless. Satisfied, or shall I spell out a full ingredient list?"
Now I feel a little ashamed. All of that sounds...strangely thoughtful, and solely for my benefit. A thank-you is at the tip of my tongue. I swallow it down. "That was considerate."
"You're no good to either of us exhausted. I'll let you prepare."
I remove the cork and immediately bring the flask to my nose, taking a big whiff. By the smell only, this stuff would sell like hotcakes if it were available back home. Maybe I should mention the business opportunity to Ryther. Woods, seaside, blooming flowers in spring, and something a little naughty underneath it all, like leather and musk. It feels like a caress on my skin, impossibly smooth. Suddenly, fatigue hits me like a ton of bricks, the events of the last few days pressing in.
Yeah, I'd better get out of the bath before I crash in there. Any flat surface will do.
Along with the dark bundle of fabric, I spot a large fluffy towel, warm, like it was just out of the tumble dryer. Ryther is a wonderful host.
The clothes are night and day compared to the accoutrement Junis’s servants brought me.
Sturdy pants, in a thick material a little like wool, but lighter, and waxed with something protective, slightly shimmery. They tie at the sides, with laces rather than a zipper, but otherwise, they’re the kind of pants my mom would wear when she went hiking. The top is just as practical, although it’s far too pretty to hike in. There are green designs stitched into the black fabric; trees and leaves, acorns, feathers. The pile also contains wooly socks, leather shoes, and a vest with many pockets.
I've just taken a tally of it all when Ryther comes back, two cups in hand.
"You don’t have to dress,” Ryther tells me.
The look I shoot him must be telling, because he snorts before continuing.
“Not until morning; there’s a chemise you can sleep in underneath.”
Ah, that makes more sense, especially for a man who wasn't overly interested in getting inside me when he had me naked and at his mercy.
The chemise is a dark shirt that will likely reach my knees. I wonder if it’s one of his shirts.
While he looks at me when I undress, it’s without much interest; he doesn’t even work up to a leer.
I quickly dress in the soft, warm shirt. “Well, lead the way.”
He hands me one of the cups first, bringing the other to his mouth. I itch to ask what it is, but by his look, he's expecting it. And I'm tired of being predictable. I bring it to my mouth. He did say I'd be safe.
"It's an herbal concoction I like to drink before bed. Apple blossom, hibiscus, lavender, roses—other things. I can't quite recall off the top of my head."
"It's lovely," I say. "Why, between this and your idea of soap, I'm convinced fairies ought to open a store on Earth. They'd put most health and wellness shops out of business in no time."
He smiles. "What makes you think health and wellness stores aren't already owned by fairies?"
"Because none of the stuff in there works as well as your soap."
He snorts. "I would think so. I brewed it myself; no third-rate sorcerer will get you that kind of result."
"You brewed it?"
I expected his usual degree of smugness, but Ryther shrugs indifferently."Ready?"
I nod, and start to follow, the clothes in my arms.“You had women’s clothing lying around?"
“Yes, though they're not quite my color,” he retorts, leaving it at that.
And now, I'm wondering if I was spanked, then caressed by someone else’s boyfriend or husband. I wrinkle my nose in distaste at the idea. If that's the case, the nameless woman's sharing him with Relva, Pavi, and Lurn, at least. What's another girl thrown in?
"You could always ask, if the thought of my being spoken for is so disdainful to you."
Oh, for Christ's sake!
"Stop reading my mind!"
