Page 8 of Vicious Kings
She hovers in the doorway like she's not sure if she should come in or run. Her red curls are pulled back in a messy bun, and she's wearing her everyday training leathers instead of that big golden gown. The guards watch her with bored expressions, clearly not considering either of us a threat.
"Hey," she says, but the word sounds like a question.
"Hey yourself."
I don't move from the cot. Part of me wants to leap up and hug her, pretend nothing's changed. The other part remembers the look on her face during the Unmasking. That mixture of pity and relief that it wasn't her, and the way she turned from me.
She steps inside, and the door closes behind her. We stare at each other for a long moment, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on us.
"You stink," she finally blurts out.
The laugh bursts out of me before I can stop it. "Yeah, well, that's what happens when they let you rot in a dungeon for a month."
"It hasn't been a month." She moves closer, wrinkling her nose.
"They weren't exactly providing spa services down there, either way."
She shakes her head, some of the awkwardness melting away. "Come on. They told me to get you cleaned up."
"They?" I stand, stretching muscles that have been cramped for too long. "Since when are you on prisoner duty?"
"Since my best friend turned out to be..." She trails off, color rising in her cheeks.
"An omega." I finish for her, the word still tasting like poison. "You can say it. Everyone else has."
She purses her lips and leads me through a door across the hall I noticed from when they brought me in here, into a small bathing chamber. Steam rises from a copper tub already filled with hot water.
"Strip," Vera orders, already gathering soaps and oils from a shelf.
I peel off the tattered remains of the training leathers they allowed me to change into before leaving the dungeon, trying not to think about how this might be the last time I wear them. Thewater scalds my skin as I sink into it, but I don't care. I'd scrub my own skin off at this point if I could.
Vera works in silence, scrubbing my back with efficient strokes. Her hands are gentle as she works the tangles from my hair, and I close my eyes, pretending I'm a child again and my mother is untangling my unruly hair. Back when my biggest worry was whether I'd master the new knife technique before evaluation day, or if Galen Clarke was going to tattle on me for pushing him in the dirt after he pulled on Vera's hair.
"Why are they bothering?" I murmur as she rinses my hair, watching the dust and dirt from days in the dungeon gray the water swirling down the drain. "If they're just going to throw me to the Fae anyway."
"I suppose even the Fae have standards," she says, her tone bone dry.
"Thanks. Very helpful."
She dumps another pitcher of rapidly cooling water over my head, and I sputter. Heated pipes are a luxury reserved for humans living in the cattle pens offered by the Fae.
A luxury not worth the cost of your soul.
"You're welcome."
We fall into silence again and once the water is finally running clear, I step out of the tub. Vera offers me a towel that's seen better days and I take it, wrapping myself in the threadbare cotton. It's worn and comfortable, like this place that's about to be ripped away from me. She sits me on a stool and starts working a comb through my wet hair, the familiar rhythm almost soothing.
"Is it true?" she asks quietly, her eyes finally meeting mine in the mirror. "Are you really... what they say you are?"
"You saw my resonance. Same as everyone else."
"I know, but..." She pauses, her hands stilling in my hair. "How could you not know? All these years, and you never suspected?"
There's no mistaking the accusation in her tone. The suspicion tinged with hurt that I've been keeping such a monumental secret for most of our lives.
I spin around to face her, anger flaring hot in my chest. "None of us know what our resonance is until the ceremony. That's the whole fucking point of the Unmasking."
"I know, I know." She holds up her hands in surrender. "I'm sorry. It's just... hard to believe.You, of all people."
