Page 20 of Bloodguard

My muscles relax, and I sink deeper, blinking several times to stay alert. Just because I willingly whored myself out tonight doesn’t mean I’m safe here.

Jakeb’s daughter returns to the kitchen table and shuffles around before returning. She tosses more flowers into the bath, dusting her hands against each other to get every petal, all the while pretending a gladiator doesn’t lie naked in front of her, at her mercy.

She walks back to the table and this time hefts the basket. Glass clinks, and there are some scrunching noises. The way she crosses the room is more in tune with a servant accustomed to demanding work than a woman of her status.

She sets the basket on the floor and kneels down to rummage through it, probably tired of making the trek back and forth from table to tub. Maybe saving her energy for later…

There are a multitude of plants in the basket, some so bright they glow, others drying in jars sprinkled with large salt crystals. Others yet have dense black leaves I’ve never seen before intermixed with bright petals.

I make out juniper and eucalyptus, mostly by scent. Everything else, while fragrant, is unfamiliar and potentially poisonous. I sit up a bit in the water, muscles tensing. What is she up to?

Like a guard skilled with a sword, she pulls a long knife from a hidden pocket—

I whip my hand out, sloshing water over the edges of the tub as I snag her narrow wrist. And squeeze. She grunts but doesn’t scream. IknewI couldn’t trust her—or any of this.

Her blue eyes flare. “Howdareyou touch me.”

My jaw clenches. HowdareI? “I can’t screw you without touching you. Even I’m not that good. And your father paid me to lay with you, not to lay still while you cut me. Drop the knife.”

“I’m not here to cut you, gladiator, and I’mdefinitelynot here tolaywith you,” she snaps. “And my father had nothing to do with it. This idea was mine.”

She jerks her wrist, and I narrow my gaze. I reach out with my other hand and carefully grasp the knife, squeezing her wrist until she releases the weapon. Only then do I let her hand go.

“What idea?” I lean forward, but my sore muscles protest and I sit back again.

“I’m a healer.” She answers without really answering, then points her finger to the jars lining the wall and waves her other hand around the room.

Confusion is an unfamiliar feeling that doesn’t sit well with me.

Something’s not right here. She wanted me. I sensed it in the way she looked at me in the arena…or was that whatIwanted—someone to see me as more than a brutal killer? Maybe she could have if I hadn’t murdered her escort.

She holds her palm out for her knife. “Well?”

“You’re here to mend my injuries?” I raise one eyebrow. “And nothing else?”

She nods, and I grudgingly hand the knife back to her.

It’ll be easy enough to disarm her again.

She moves to the sink area and sets the weapon down. Then she glides her fingers along a shelf of jars filled with colorful powders. I thought they were spices when I first saw them, but the way she inspects them suggests they’re meant for something else. I should have guessed. The meal I had wasn’t prepared here.

Using tremendous scrutiny, she chooses one as bright and orange as lily pollen and another that is so deep brown it could be mistaken for black. With a practiced flip of her hand, she shakes out enough to where she’s satisfied and mashes her ingredients into a paste.

Few healers remain in Old Erth. It’s why they charge as much as they do and why Mother can’t help Dahlia without more coin. Many know the basics—how to stop a bleed or splint broken limbs—but when it comes to infections or poisons, you either beat it or you don’t.

“Who taught you to heal?” I ask.

“I learned the fundamentals from Neela. You remember Neela? My dear, sweet,grandmotherlygoverness you couldn’t wait to fu—”

“Hey.” I wave a hand. “Everyone makes mistakes.”

She grins.

I eye all the plants and petals floating in this tub. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

My comment wipes the grin off her face.

I hadn’t meant to offend. What I meant was, only the wealthiest, most powerful of Arrow have the privilege to hire healers—they don’tbecomehealers. From my experience, the nobles don’t work, and they definitely don’t get their hands dirty.

---