Page 14 of Ties of Death

I nod, but I know that won’t matter. I wasn’t touching Eskil and Kettil, and I’ve never met the woman.

But maybe it raises the chances, if Daenn’s experiences with his own magic are anything to go by, even if it’s not necessary to trigger whatever horror I’ve brought upon them. Daenn certainly seems to think so, with how he’s always wearing those gloves now.

Daenn guides me to a low bench along one wall and helps me settle. Once I’m there, he straightens and leaves. I watch the sleeping forms, wrapping my arms around myself. I have never felt so alone.

10

The Decency to Suffer

Ispend the next day resting in my—or, rather, Daenn’s room, under strict orders from Sigrid. I don’t have the energy to argue with her—melding Daenn’s and my magic has left me with a bone-deep weariness that means that I spend most of it sleeping, only waking to eat the warm foods Sigrid brings me. I don’t see Daenn again, to my relief. I do keep myself awake for a while after supper—torn between worry for Eskil and the others and wondering if Daenn will appear. This ishisroom—I refuse to think of it as ours—and even power-hungry kings have to sleep.

If he does return, it must be after I fall asleep for the night. But when I wake the next morning, there’s no sign of him still; even the other side of the bed is pristine.

I choose to hope he left me be.

Sigrid has clearly already come and gone, as there’s a tray with a bowl of warm porridge waiting on the carved stone table by the bed.

I’ve only just finished it when a knock comes at the door and the woman herself strides in, not waiting for me to answer. She must be confident she won’t find Daenn here too; there’s no way she would so brazenly enter if there was even the smallestchance he was.

“Up with you, darling. You are in desperate need of bathing.” She collects my bowl and ushers me to my feet and out the door before I even have a chance to protest.

Not that I want to. I am feeling far better today than I did yesterday, but a hot bath sounds lovely.

“Can we visit the infirmary again?” I ask instead. I have an irrational fear that my victims have passed away in the night.

Sigrid shakes her head, even as her gaze softens. “We don’t have time. But I stopped there first thing this morning, and I promise everyone was doing as well as can be, given…the situation.”

I swallow and nod. Her report will have to be enough.

I can’t help the apprehension that curls through me as Sigrid and I, and two guards who trail behind us, make our way to the hot springs. Bathing customs are different in the lowlands, more private. It’s been a long time since I’ve used a communal bath, and it feels like a strange concept now.

The guards stay outside the entrance to the women’s pool. Sigrid and I enter, and I search the cavern as steam wraps around me. It’s silent, dim.

And empty.

My relief must show. “I made sure you’d have the space to yourself,” Sigrid says. “You don’t need anyone pestering you while you’re still recovering, and we both know some would.” Her words are punctuated with a frown.

“Thank you, Sigrid.” It’s not enough to convey the depth of feeling I have for this woman. She’s both soothing and making my heart ache with her caring. I’ve missed her, how maternal she is. It reminds me of my mother.

She pats my cheek before gesturing around. “Now. Do you remember how this all works? Do you need help with anything?”

There are clean towels stacked on a stone shelf carved into the wall, and a basket of soaps and oils sits just on the side of the hot spring, in easy reach from the water.

“Yes, I remember how to bathe,” I say wryly. “Theydodo that in the lowlands too.”

She tsks at my sassing, but her eyes are bright. “Then you’ll not need help getting out of that infernal dress you insisted on sleeping in, either?”

I bite my lip as I glance down at the black dress. I insisted on sleeping in one of my more informal lowland dresses. No way am I going to be caught in underthings if Daenn returns to his room.

But even the most casual of my dresses from the lowlands requires a maid to assist with them. Dressing yourself is for the peasants, as far as the Verkslish nobility are concerned.

“Yes, please.”

Sigrid helps me without any fuss, though I do hear a small noise from her when my new tattoo comes into view. I pretend I don't, and bless her, she says nothing about it.

I’m already halfway in the water when she speaks again. “Oh, dear, we’ve forgotten a change of clothes for you.”

I groan. How could I have forgotten that?

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