Chapter Thirteen

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Anya ran her fingers through the strands of my hair, washing out the soap that had lathered and cleansed it completely. Though the water was warm and filled with sweet smelling oils that turned my skin soft like a flower petal, I still felt dirty and cold. The warmth of the water refused to sink in and warm me, and the fires that constantly stayed aflame throughout the palace held no warmth against my skin. I refused to light a candle in my chambers, refused to look at them even. I couldn't stand to look at the flames licking away at the wicks of the candles... not without being reminded of what has happened. For so many cycles, I've tried to push those images from my mind, refusing to remember that my home was now burned to the ground.

And now, the truth of a man that I had once trusted with my very life, and had promised to be his Life mate... the thoughts that filled my mind truly had the gods damming me to burn for all of eternity. But, even though the thoughts were sour and like that of black magic, I felt no sorrow or remorse for them. Perhaps he should be the one to burn. No, not perhaps. He should burn, burn just like the hundreds of lives that he took. A coward... that's exactly what he had become.

"My Lady..." I heard Anya whisper as she continued to wash and rinse my hair. I looked at her from the corner of my vision, letting her know that I was listening, though a response was not possible at the moment. After calling for the guards to remove Maketis from my chambers, making sure that he had given the branch to me, I refused to speak another word. Besides, the words that I thought of were not innocent. Why would they be, though? I had learned the cursing of common tongue because of my time in the Pleasure House. "Vixas... it's not like you to be so silent. Please, I wish to know if there is something that I can do." I didn't speak, only turned my gaze to look out of the stained glass window, allowing me to see the city in the distance.

She let out a sigh, only to take the cloth that had been soaking in the water, running it along the skin of my shoulders and arm.

"I am glad that you agreed to go to dinner with His Grace. He has been asking if you were alright... I believe he has a far greater attraction to you than you believe." she smiled at the thought. "He's very handsome, you know. He would make a wonderful husband... perhaps?" Anya whispered as she ran the cloth over the scar on my collarbone, tracing the jagged lines from the wound that had healed so long ago. Yes... he is rather handsome. But, his outward appearance is not what I wish to be attracted to. Looks fade over time, as the weight of your years causes your skin and bones to drop. But, even if the years took away his attractive features, I had a strong feeling that the warmth that occurred whenever he was around would still be there. And it was rather... infectious. Perhaps that is why I have been so cold... because he has not been in my presence, or I in his?

"I wish you would speak to me... It's rather odd for me to have a conversation with myself." she gave me a king smile, laughing at her joke, her eyes sparkling. I simply raised the corners of my lips, causing her eyes to grow with surprise and joy. "There's the smile that I had grown to know." I lowered my gaze as she finished washing my arms and back, seeming to be happy with the way that I smelt of lavender and honey. It was soothing, causing my frantic heartbeat to calm slightly. I would be seeing them both tonight. Kratos had thought it... rather kind of himself to 'gift' Maketis with a farewell feast. The Knights had all been asked to join, and we would send him off with a full belly. And perhaps I could place a sword through his heart as well? That would be a lovely sendoff gift.

Once I was dry and I had been able to place a robe on to cover my naked body, Anya brushed my hair, humming a calming tune that I had heard her hum several times while she bathed and dried my body. It seemed to be a lullaby, in a tongue that I did not understand. But, it still soothed me none-the-less. The fire dried my hair as she twirled strands around large sticks, allowing the strands to turn into curls like that of a proper lady. I practically snorted at the thought of that word. I was no Lady. A lady was proper and held herself in elegance. A lady was someone that was kind and gentle, always speaking in a calm manner, and handling any situation with grace. I was none of those things. When would they see that?

The King's Possession -- Book Two: WaterWhere stories live. Discover now