Lady in the Iron Mask

II: Chapter 12

Stretching out, Eve extended her legs in the warm bathtub, which appeared more like a large wooden bucket than a real washtub. This didn't make her feel ungrateful, though; she still remembered the feeling of being on the streets, and constantly covered in grime. 

Impatiently, she flicked a soap sud and thought about Kieran once more. She wondered if he was even alive, and a pang of regret filled her, then dissipated as she tried to think of something else.

"You can't save everyone, my lady," a hushed and deep voice murmured. 

Eve jumped visibly, then raised her arms to cover her chest. Although she had suspected that she was alone in the steam-filled, foggy room, it appeared she was not. 

"Why are you here?" Eve demanded. "Can't a woman bathe in peace?" 

The man from the corner of the brothel emerged, a towel wrapped around his midriff, and his dark eyes gleaming. His hair was wet and disturbed, and it seemed as though he had just bathed himself. 

"I was in here first. Also, there isn't exactly a lock on the door, is there?" 

Eve watched as he brushed his hands through his messy hair, slicking it back and making his jaw appear more prominent. His body was a powerful one, like a lithe yet muscly demon's, and he was well-proportioned and taller than he had looked before. Now that he was just about visible, everything about his appearance just screamed: dangerous. She eyed him wearily, knowing by now to heed her instincts, but he did nothing which would alarm her. In fact, he was extremely subdued and nonchalant about the whole situation.

When she didn't respond to him and continued staring, he shrugged and sat against the wall opposite the large bathtub, and began rubbing soap across his biceps, which rippled. Water droplets gathered across his darkly haired arms. His legs were more hairy than his arms, and so was his treasure-trail, but this didn't disgust Eve. She had not seen any men completely naked, but what she did see occasionally she didn't bother to appreciate. Rather, she always calculated their strength based off of her own, and the prospect of an immediate fight. It was the rogue instincts to do so, and not to trust immediately. 

But curiosity won out eventually, and Eve moved over to the side of the pool-like tub and wrapped her arms down over the sides to cover her body from his view, as she didn't want the sight of herself to intervene in conversation, and had little interest in seducing this man for any purpose. Plus, it made her feel safer, and protected. After all, she had been punched in her breast before once in a street skirmish, which had caused her to be in pain for weeks on end afterwards. 

"I was just wondering," Eve paused, and seeing him raise his piercing gaze to meet hers, took it as encouragement to continue, "how did you know my name when we had first met?" 

"I heard the man you were with speak it. Besides, who wouldn't be able to guess your name with eyes and hair like that?"

He glanced away, to the left, and back again. A lie. His voice was low and soothing, but his body language betrayed him. She couldn't see too clearly through the steam, but could guess that he had something to hide. Eve glanced down at his leg, only to have him move it behind his other one casually, crossing it out of view. 

"How is it?"

"What?" He asked.

"Your leg," she nodded in its general direction, "Is it any better?"

"Oh, yeah. It should be healed in a few days."

Eve frowned and turned away from him, leaning her back against the side of the tub and skimming her eyes across the many bubbles across the water. She then sighed and leaned her head back, so that it rested on the edge, and stared into the fog above, which curled around her breath and then encroached on her tongue, tasting it. It almost pulled the words she most wanted to say from her lips: Why are you lying? But that would destroy her trump card, and she wasn't certain what he knew about her. Clearly, something was suspicious and dark about him. 

She let out a little laugh suddenly, thinking about all the times she had been placed in awkward or strange situations. Misfortune seemed to chase her everywhere.

"Is something funny?" His breath was cool against her cheek and right ear, and she jumped once again, a little shocked that he had been able to sneak up on her like that.

Immediately she covered her breasts and spun to face him, placing distance between them by kicking away from the side. But her chest was heaving, and she felt a heat gather in her chest, mostly of embarrassment. 

"Can you not?!" She exclaimed, and he threw his head back and laughed in response, the sound ringing lightly in her ears. 

It made her smile.

"I got you good, my lady. You know, if you let your guard down like that all the time, strange men will continue to sneak up on you," he joked, then placed a hand down on the side of the tub where Eve's back had just been, "Mind if I join you? I'm extremely soapy."

He was covered in the stuff, looking more like an abominable snowman than a human being, which cracked Eve up even more. He attempted to mock-frown, but that too broke into an embarrassed grin. She waved a hand to encourage him to get in, and rested against the opposite side of the large wooden tub, steam rising between them. He stared at her for a minute with cool calculation, and then decided to leap into the tub, splashing her with a load of water. 

"Argh!" She gasped, inhaling water. "I'll get you for that!" 

However, he just sat like a cat which had gotten the cream, and Eve's cheeks flushed as she realised what she had done. He raised his eyebrows and looked at her. In her blind rage, she had leapt up, exposing her body. Panicking, she hurled a load of water at him, in an attempt to make him stop looking at her in a way that made her heat inside. 

He cried out suddenly, clutching his eyes, which were squinting and shutting rapidly. 

"Ow, Eve! The soap suds! Ughh, they say that beauty makes a man blind, and in this case I believe it is coming true!"

"Stop joking," Eve rolled her eyes at him, but grabbed him his towel which was on the floor, and he rubbed his eyes gratefully, complaining about the burning sensations. 

After he had finished, and was sat comfortably once more, Eve asked him for his name.

"Victor."

"Hmm...you don't look like a victor to me," Eve frowned.

"Well, those who know me call me by the name of Ash, like the black remnants of woodfire." 

"Is that because of your eyes, or your tendency to look like you're going to murder everything in your path?" Eve laughed, but when she looked over at him, she saw that this time he hadn't reciprocated in her humor, and was instead staring across the room, at the only small window in there. 

Outside, you could see a full moon, partially hidden behind dark clouds, obscuring its light. To Eve, it represented another night without resolution of her problems. To Victor, it meant something else.

"Perhaps," he muttered, eyeing it with apprehension.