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41. Announcements

Nesta led you to the back of the castle, where a "temporary bathhouse" was.

"How . . ?" You narrowed your eyes, confused. "How can a bathhouse be temporary?"

"Devlon doesn't have enough baths for everyone," she explained, patting your arm. "But he does have a large pool. And it cleans itself, thank the Mother."

You were about to suggest a more private bathing option when Nesta opened a double door to reveal a veranda, an overgrown patio, and then finally, a large pool. Bloody armor and weapons bordered it as if they'd been left behind in a hurry. Steam rose from the water, danced, and then disappeared, reminding you of Azriel's shadows. Which then reminded you of Anima.

You fought a grimace and looked around to distract yourself. The pool was between the castle and the plateau behind it, and even though it was in a weird location, you weren't one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

And then finally, you noticed two females, almost hidden by the steam, sitting with their feet in the pool.

"Are those your friends?" you asked, gesturing to them. "The other Valkyries?"

Nesta nodded, her eyes bright, and then she grabbed a white towel from a nearby stone bench.

"Here," she said, giving it to you. "You don't have to wear it while bathing, but some of us do. Some of us need the modesty. Anyway, join us whenever you want."

As she strode toward her friends, she stripped, dumping her light armor and leathers everywhere.

You hugged the towel she'd given you, suddenly nervous. You didn't want to admit it, but it'd been a while since you'd been around someone other than Azriel. Or a male in general.

You clucked your tongue and then shook your head at yourself.

All the more reason to suck it up, you decided. You stripped, left Koschei's diary in your clothes, and then wrapped the towel around yourself.

As you approached Nesta and her friends, you were pleasantly surprised that one of them was Illyrian and had wings.

But as you got closer, you noticed that they'd been clipped — and poorly.

You winced, tucking your own wings in as if you could hide them.

When Nesta jumped in the pool to face her friends, she saw you. "Ah, there you are. (Y/n), meet Gwyn and Emerie." She pointed at a redhead in a towel and then at the Illyrian, whose own towel was over her shoulder.

You were surprised by how . . . fit they both looked. Strong.

Emerie grinned from ear to ear. "It's an honor, m'lord." She started to laugh, but it sounded more relieved than anything. "Sorry! I promise I'm not laughing at you. It's just— It's been so weird! You know, coming to terms with an Illyrian High Lord. And a female one! It's never happened before. Anyway, yeah, I'm Emerie."

"Here," Gwyn said, "let me just . . ." She made space between her and Emerie and then patted the stone there, indicating that you should join them.

"Thanks," you said with a small smile.

Once you were sat, the water felt divine on your feet and calves.

Gwyn turned to face you, practically vibrating with excitement. "When Emerie and I returned, we didn't think we'd missed anything exciting, but Mother, were we wrong! Nesta filled us in on everything. And we get to sleep over too?! I can't wait. Seriously. Oh! And I hope you're doing better. They said you were holed up in some random cottage in the Autumn Court recovering from Beron and his stupid faebane. Ugh, I'm glad he's dead. I don't care if karma bites me in the ass for saying that out loud. I said it, I meant it, and that's that on that."