The Heir of Night

11

"If you don't wish to share a bed with your mother, there are extra blankets in the closet. You can sleep on the couch, or I can." Theia gave a nod and slid her arm from his touch. Her skin was immediately cold without the warmth of his fingers. She didn't give him another glance as she opened the door and slid into her mother's bedroom.

Maia was in the same spot she had been the week before. Though, the lack of odor told Theia that her mother at least left the bed to use the bathing chamber now. "Mama," she whispered, hearing the steady breaths that hinted at deep sleep. Maia didn't answer. Theia chewed on her lip as she turned to the wardrobe, remembering that the healer lived in this room with Maia.

Her eyes turned to the cot in front of the fireplace. As expected, Madja was laid beneath a heap of blankets, wrinkled eyes closed and shoulders moving in time with her breath. Sighing, Theia pulled the wardrobe open and took in the contents. Soft, rich fabrics were hung in line, thicker wool folded and placed atop the shelf. Her hand reached for what looked like silk, hand pausing before she reached it. Too fine for rough hands. Theia didn't like that she found these clothes too nice for her body, but it was all she had that was clean.

She grabbed the nightgown from its hanger, hanging it over her arm. Her eyes fell to the drawers beneath the shelves and she dropped to her knees. Pulling them open, she found that they were full of undergarments. Silk, lace, all fabrics. Running with her new theme, Theia collected the silk and placed it on top of the nightgown. Finished with her scavenging, Theia rose and left the room.

Her eyes crossed the landing to Nyx's bedroom door, closed and only silence within. Tearing her eyes away, Theia slipped into the bathing chamber. Alongside the wall was a large tub, beside the door was a vanity and a sink, and along the wall between was a toilet. It was simple, yet just as elegant as the bathing chamber in the High Lord and High Lady's home. She laid the silk fabrics on the vanity and began stripping out of her worn wool clothing.

Along the empty wall was a stand of shelves and a basket beside it. Theia padded over to it, peering inside. There were clothes dropped in, probably for washing. Theia placed her own clothes into the basket and looked around the shelf. It had soaps, cloths, towels, everything you'd need to bathe. She grabbed a cloth, a towel, and selected a floral scented soap. She placed them on the small table beside the tub, turned on the faucet, and turned, nearly stumbling back in shock.

A full length mirror was hung onto the wall, giving those who bathed in the tub full view of themselves. Theia stared at herself in horror. She didn't have a mirror in her own home, and rarely knew what she looked like. It wasn't a pleasant sight. Completely nude, her eyes stared wide at her body.

She wasn't as frail and gangly as her mother, though she wasn't full and muscled like the females in the war camp. Her stomach bulged painfully, looking as though she had a full babe in her womb. It looked strange against her carved ribs and boned thighs, though those didn't look quite right either. Her breasts had never grown much when she matured, either. She had never needed to use a brassier like some of the other females she knew.

Regretfully, Theia stepped closer. Her face resembled her mother's far more than her body did. Her cheek bones were hollowed with deep shadows; her hazel eyes dulled to flat color, surrounded in purple and red. Her dark hair laid flat on top of her head, broken ends fraying around her face. She looked as close to death as one could be as they still breathed. She grimaced and turned away, choosing to climb into the tub with her back to the mirror.

With the hot water up to her shoulders and the liquid soap being poured in, Theia felt like she could allow herself to relax. She sat in the water with her eyes closed for a long while, until it began to cool. Finally, she slid back and dipped her head beneath the water. The tub was large enough that even with her wings, she could practically float without touching the edges. She scrubbed her scalp, feeling the suds soak into her hair. After rinsing, she took the cloth and ran it along her skin until it felt as clean as the night before.

Even if she didn't have a place to sleep or clean clothes, Theia would settle for a thorough bath every day as her own form of wealth. She climbed out and began to drain the tub, running the soft towel over herself to dry. When she pulled on the silk undergarment and sleeping gown, which had not been tailored for her wings so she had to step into it, though the back was low enough that it did not touch the base, Theia began to look through the lotions and oils on the shelves.

She opened a jar containing the whipped moisturizing cream and slathered it over her legs and arms. It smelled of vanilla and spices, a stark contrast to the soft floral of the soap. When there was nothing left to pamper herself with, Theia opened the bathing chamber door. Her heart launched into her throat when she walked into a tall body. Hands caught her arms before she could stumble backwards.

"I'm sorry, I thought you'd have been done by now." Her gaze rose from Nyx's bare chest to his face, her cheeks heating. Still, she made no move to leave his grip. She felt his thumb run over her freshly moisturized skin, her breath hitching at the touch. Embarrassment flooded her when she couldn't stop her eyes from dropping back to the tattoos across his chest and shoulders, nor the cut muscle of his torso. Her mouth ran dry when she brought her eyes back to his. They were dark, yet shining as they watched her observe his body.

Before she could step back, his own eyes dropped to the loose nightgown on her body. His fingers pressed slightly harder into her arms, his tongue running across his bottom lip. The action sent shivers running down her spine and heat rising in her stomach. It was too many emotions to file through, and it frightened her. Theia cleared her throat and braved herself to slide between Nyx and the doorframe. She finally let out a breath when his hands left her skin and she stood freely in the corridor.

"Sorry," she murmured, turning and hurrying into her mother's bedroom. When the door closed, she leaned against it with a heavy breath. Whatever that had been, she hadn't been expecting it. She had never been the holder of male attention, not positively, anyway. The only males that had given her a heated look were those that had far too many glasses of whiskey and were attracted to the female that continued to feed alcohol to them. Never had she been close enough for their touch, nor for her to be under such weight of their attention.

With another loosened breath, Theia padded to the side of the bed. "Mama?" Maia didn't respond, heavily under the influence of sleep. Theia made to climb in, but the thought of being so close to the female that left her caused another sensation in her stomach. It hurt, but not like it had when she ate too much. It ached like it was empty, like she was empty. Theia gathered a pillow from the bed and tucked it beneath her arm. She left the bedroom, keeping her gaze from the bathing chamber door, and collected a blanket from the closet.

With that, she was down the stairs and laying a bed for herself on the couch. It was far from comfortable, but better than what she had back home. She laid on her side, pinning a wing beneath her and the other hung over her body like a shield. She didn't sleep as well as she had in Velaris, though in increments, she slept hard and deeply.