Page 12 of The Horned King
With a shake of my head, I tell her that I'm just fine bathing on my own, uncertain if that's against propriety here.
Fortunately, she simply smiles and points to a set of doors behind me. "There are cleaning oils in there, as well as a robe."
I thank her emphatically, and she bows before leaving my room and closing the door behind her.
While I am immensely pleased I'll be able to properly bathe after my days of traveling, there's one thing I must do first. I walk over to the soft blue drapes hiding my desire from me and gently cast them aside.
Somehow, the ocean is even more unbelievable from up this high. The movement of it, like the water is dancing with the sky, is unlike anything I could have imagined. Far off in the distance, I see what must be whales, or possibly dolphins, jumping into the air before crashing back down. They're beautifully in sync with each other, all of them moving across the horizon in perfect harmony.
After standing and staring for long enough that I'm certain the bath water has cooled, I make my way to the bathing room and strip my clothing off. My best clothing. And yet that man looked at them as if they were offensive. I roll my eyes, though no one is here to see it. If nothing else, it'll help me feel better to allow myself these childish reactions in private. I certainly couldn't let anyone else witness them.
I slipped up earlier with the king, so overwhelmed by the way he accosted me with his eyes and his words that I couldn't help myself. But that won't be happening again. From now on, I will be the picture of poise. The person that my nation chose to represent them. Not the girl inside who wanted to smack that stupid smirk right off his face.
As I sink into the water, still surprisingly warm, I let out a sigh. The herbs and salt container sitting next to the tub is labeled lavender and vanilla. While I've no clue what vanilla is, it smells incredible. My muscles ache from being cramped inside that cart for two days, and the warm water forces them to relax.
There's a small towel on one edge, perfectly sized for me to use as a pillow while I consider what I've learned in my short time here.
The king cares so little for this alliance that he didn't even bother to find out when I'd be arriving. He believes that we disrespected him, but how? That needs to be my first item of business, righting this supposed wrong. Perhaps if that's remedied, we can move forward without any hostility.
Secondly, I need to understand what he needs for this treaty to benefit all of us. The unfortunate truth is that he has an advantage over most of us. What we have to offer pales in comparison to the need for access and trade of the ocean's harvests. We have game that can only be found in mountains, sure, and magically enhanced wood to build stronger, more stable homes.
But something tells me that he won't care one way or another. His home is strong and not going anywhere. Why would he care for the homes of others? He does not even care for the lives of others, much less the quality of them.
A knock on the door brings me from my silent stewing, and I wait, seeing if it's one of the maids and if they'll simply allow themselves in.
Raya's voice travels through the crack she's created without disrupting my privacy. "Thirty minutes to dinner, Miss Aistin. And trust me, being late is not an option."
"Thank you, Raya." I pinch my brows together. Why can I not be late? Not that I would be anyway; that would be far too rude. But I was told I'd be dining alone. Perhaps they are very particular about when the kitchen closes.
I drag myself out of the tub, wrapping a towel around me as I pad over to the closet they so kindly hung all my clothing in. While there's no need for anything too dressy, I still need to look presentable should I run into anyone between here and the dining room.
A simple linen dress of deep gray, matching many of the castle's walls. No need to draw any more attention to myself. I'm just here to do a job and go home. I pulled my hair back into a braided twist, the strands cooperating into the style I'm so used to.
When Raya taps on the door to my room again, I open it, ready to face what lies ahead. She silently appraises my dress and hair, nodding to herself before turning, assuming I'll follow. I use quick strides, trying to remain by her side so I can ask her questions.
"How long have you worked in the castle, Raya?"
After a moment, she tells me, "10 years."
"Oh." I try to remember what all we were told about the violent takeover six years prior. "I thought King Laichnek ummm... got rid of all the people who worked for the old king."
She nods, looking at me from the corner of her eye. "I never worked for the old king. Not really. I've worked for His Royal Majesty since before he took the throne."
Other than a slight pause in my steps, I give no reaction. "I see."
She breathes out through her nose. "The old king was... terrible."
"As opposed to what you have now?" I try and fail not to scoff.
She shakes her head and laughs as we round another corner. "He's also terrible. But it's... it's different. Being a terrible person is not the same as being a terrible leader. And while King Laichneck might be one of those things, Rivchi was both." Two men stand in front of the doors before us, nodding at Raya before opening them. She holds a hand out and turns me to face her. "You must leave behind any notions you have of morality, right and wrong. There's no such thing. There is life, and there is death. A horrible man might be the key to survival, and a seemingly great man could lead you right to your grave."
With that, she leaves me to enter the small dining room by myself, the setting sun sending rays of gold, pink and purple across the beautiful tapestries hanging in the large chamber. I'm stunned, motionless for a moment, staring at the artwork all around me. Aside from the sunlight, candles are ensconced on the walls every few feet, casting shadows that move in the slight breeze.
When I finally shake myself from my stupor, I spot the dining table, its stunning decor, and the man sitting at the head of the table. The man I was told I would not be seeing much of. The very man who thought me a whore just this afternoon.
The Horned King.
"Good evening, Ambassador. Please sit."