Page 55 of Stolen
Even though I wonder if he’ll get bored. If I’ll be going home soon.
I think I’m ready to follow it just a little farther.
I grip the sheet tighter around me and rise from the bed, the silky fabric whispering against my skin.
“Okay then,” I say, voice a little wobbly but getting stronger. “I guess I’d better get ready. Um, one question?”
Shade, ever composed, gives me a knowing grin. “Yes, Lady Jules?”
I wrinkle my nose. “Where’s the bathroom?”
Her grin widens. “Ah. Right this way.”
She doesn’t walk toward a door—because thereisn’tone.
Not until she lifts a graceful hand and gestures toward the solid stone wall to my left.
Magic hums in the air. A low, living thrum.
And just like that, the wallshifts.
The bricks don’t crumble or collapse—theyglide, sliding apart in perfect precision, forming an elegant archway that glows faintly around the edges.
On the other side is,well, not just a bathroom.
It’s a dream.
My jaw drops as I step inside, barefoot, sheet still clutched to my chest like armor.
The floor is a warm, pearlescent stone. It’s smooth under my feet, but I can see it’s etched with faint, glowing runes that pulse like a heartbeat.
To the right, an enormous sunken bath is built into the floor itself, filled by a cascading waterfall that flows from an opening high above in the arched ceiling.
But the water isn’t just water.
It’slight.
Shimmering like molten moonstone, scented faintly with something sweet.
Like jasmine and clove and magic.
Steam curls lazily in the air, sparkling as if it’s laced with stars.
The room glows, but softly, without a single visible source of light. The stone walls breathe warmth, and everywhere I look, I see touches of beauty.
Flowers suspended mid-air in glass orbs, mirrors edged in silver that ripple like water, shelves stacked with thick, plush towels and glass bottles in every hue.
Shade gestures toward a smaller alcove with a discreet curtain.
“I trust you know what to do with these,” she says, pointing to the very human toilet and—oh God, yes—a bidet.
My cheeks flare as I nod quickly.
“There is a new brush for your teeth,” she continues, her voice gentle, “and this gel is our version of toothpaste. As for the bath, simply step inside. The waters of the Eyrie are enchanted—they will cleanse you thoroughly, without need for soaps or scrubbing. When you are finished, stand here.” She points to a golden grate beside the tub. “The vent will warm and dry you instantly.”
I blink at her. “Like a full-body hair dryer?”
“Something like that,” she replies with a twinkle in her eye. “Oh, and here.”
