Bound by Glass

23| Sorry Not Sorry

I hadn't noticed how filthy I was until I started scrubbing my skin.

With every scrub my skin got lighter, and the water darker. Allie had put a few drops scented oil in the water, from one of the small flasks on her desk. A musky yet sharp smell arose from the water each time I moved. I didn't know what it was.

Allie had sniffed the bottle and smiled before letting a few drops fall in the oval tub. She said it reminded her of her time back with her family. "One of the few things I was allowed to take with me," she huffed, "my oils. Well, they assumed they were my oils."

I had frowned at her strange remark.

She pointed to some flasks on the table, identical to the rest of them apart from their black instead of white lid. "Belladonna. Strychnine essence. Wolfsbane," she said, tapping her nail on each flask as she listed their contents. She picked one up, staring at the liquid in the flask.

She sighed. "Such a pity my father died so soon after he exiled me," she said, absently turning the bottle around in her hands.

She set them back, smiling again. "Don't touch those. Be right back!" she assured me, swirling around and leaving the room.

Thinking about the poisonous leaves I had hidden in my old boots, I moved my hands in the water, creating ripples and waves on its surface. She would probably love to get her hands on those. Still, I decided not to tell her—yet. With a sigh of relief I remembered that the flask from which Allie had poured some into the bath, had had a white lid. I did not fancy dying in a bathtub—I had to pay more attention to Allie, and those deadly black-lidded concoctions of hers.

There was mud caked under my cuticles.

I grabbed a sponge, dipping it a few times in the tepid water before I began scrubbing my nails. After a short while they were clean again.

I sighed. It felt good to be clean again—completely clean. When was the last time I had had a proper bath? It wasn't like dipping yourself in an ice cold stream was that relaxing.

"Hello?" I heard Allie call out in a sing-song voice. She peeked her head around the paper screen. "Are you finishing up?"

I dipped my chin, standing up and grabbing a towel from a stool near the oval tub. As I wrapped it around me the flowery scent of the oil drifted in my nose.

To my great dismay I found out that wasn't from the excess water dripping off my bare body, but the smell had latched itself on my skin.

That wasn't something I was used to, and therefore it took a while before I was able to ignore the scent.

How was I ever going to be able to hide anywhere, smelling like a bouquet of flowers unknown to me? They did know that a predator relied most on their sense of smell, right?

Or a person, for that matter. It was one of the first things one would unconsciously note, even if they didn't realise it. A mere whiff of something that shouldn't be there, and you'd immediately be more alert. I had learned that a long time ago.

Allie pulled me away from the bath, setting me on the chair in front of her vanity. Because she stood behind me, I couldn't see what she was doing. "You have a great figure, by the way," she commented. I muttered a thanks, pulling my towel up a bit higher. I heard footsteps walking around the room. They came closer, before stopping right behind me.

A pale arm reached over to the table, grabbing... a brush.

Knowing that about half of the flasks and bottles on the vanity were poisons, I kept my hands safely in my lap. I hoped Allie knew exactly which flask contained what.