Vrell nodded. No wonder the giants — the non-eben ones — supported Prince Oren for King.
Lady Kiska went on. “Donediff has been given the assignment of warden at Er’Rets Point. That’s a lordship, that is. Makes our Yulessa a lady all over again.”
Seeing Lady Kiska’s pride brought a smile to Vrell’s face. “How lovely.”
She winced inside. Again she had used the word lovely. Well, it was not exactly easy to carve certain words from her vocabulary. At least she had not yet used it on a man. Besides, she had met Donediff Hadar at court on several occasions. He was a lovely young man. Handsome. Kind. A little boring, perhaps, but Yulessa was lucky indeed. Many noblewomen found far less favorable matches in marriage.
Which brought her mind back to why she was here pretending to be a boy. But Vrell did not want to think about that right now. Her head was throbbing as it was.
She did wonder how tall Yulessa was, having had a tall mother and a giant for a father. Last she had seen him, Donediff was at least six feet tall. All the Hadars were tall men. And even though Lady Kiska was the tallest human woman Vrell had ever seen, her children were much shorter than giant children. She could not imagine Donediff with a woman taller than him.
Vrell scooped up another bite of venison and tuned her ear to Lord Dromos.
“I do try to stay neutral,” he said. “The Mârad oppose the ebens’ mercenary work.”
“Then they oppose the Council,” Khai said.
“They operate outside my authority,” Lord Dromos said, reaching for his goblet, “but we bring many wounded into Xulon.”
“Wounded ebens?” Jax’s tone implied the mere mention was scandalous.
“Never. Only yâtsaq giants are brought into Xulon.”
“How can you tell which ebens are mercenaries and which are only passing through?” Vrell asked.
The room silenced, and Vrell flushed at having spoken out of turn. At home she was able to speak whenever she pleased, even given the floor. But here in Xulon, under the guise of a stray boy, speaking to the lord of the manor without having been spoken to was far too bold.
Lord Dromos seemed of good cheer, however, and answered without scolding. “Ebens live on the Dark side of the CelaMountains. They never leave for innocent reasons. If they do enter Light, it is because they have been hired. The Council of Seven has chosen to employ them, so I do my best to support that, though I cannot understand why Kingsguard knights cannot do the work. Er’Retians would trust them more.”
Zoea leaned close. “Because of ebens, it’s disgraceful to be born blond. Though sometimes when you marry a human, your children are born blond. That’s why very few yâtsaq marry out of our race. Yulessa was an exception. And Mother. But they married Kinsman men. Still, I won’t marry a human.”
Vrell turned away, annoyed at the young girl’s prejudice. The kinsman people were those descended from Echâd Hadar, the first king of Er’Rets. They had dark hair, brown skin, and blue eyes. Vrell’s hair was dark, but her skin was pale and her eyes were green. Was little miss Zoea suggesting Vrell would not make a good match for her?
It was true, but terribly rude to speak of such things. Strays were not permitted to marry in most parts of Er’Rets. Vrell knew little of Nahar Duchy, but few nobles got away with marrying that far beneath their stations. Still, Zoea’s pointing it out was in poor taste.
Vrell wondered where Lady Kiska hailed from to have taught her daughter so little decorum. How she managed to marry her eldest to a prince’s son, Vrell could not fathom.
That night, Vrell snuck down to the bathhouse. The scrubbing she had given herself in the privy had made her temporarily presentable, but it had been weeks since she had had a proper bath. Grime coated her from head to toe. Only hot water, like the steam she had seen when Ez opened that green curtain, would pierce her greasy shell. It might also clear her head. The headache had grown stronger, almost bringing tears to her eyes. If only she had lavender or chamomile tea.
Her heart throbbed as she walked along the stone corridor leading to the steamy chamber. Giving in to this small temptation could ruin everything. She peeked around the heavy green tapestry.
Steam clouded everything, and for a moment, Vrell could not see. She slipped inside and crouched down where the air was cooler. Water rushed somewhere nearby. The smell of minerals was strong. Hazy light flickered above her and appeared to come from two torches on the walls. She saw no one.
Like all the others, this room was grey stone, but the floor ended two yards out from the entranceway, like a pier. Beyond it, a steamy underground river lazed by just below floor level. She walked in a crouch to the edge and peered down a black tunnel on either side but could see nothing but a fine net draped across the openings. She shuddered, wondering what it was meant to keep out.
She turned back to the emerald tapestry and could hardly see it. She sighed. There was no tiny corner to bathe in here. If anyone entered, she would be discovered in all her feminine splendor. But at least the steam provided some protection. If she heard someone enter, she could likely get dressed in time.
The steam had already loosened her pores, and so, with a quick prayer that Arman would keep her safe, Vrell gave in to the watery temptation. She stripped off her clothing. Her chest heaved when she removed the undergarment that had not been taken off since Lady Coraline had helped her tie it a week ago. She lowered herself into the hot spring and gasped at the water’s scalding temperature. She would be pink from head to toe when she got out.
She kept to the front of the stone ledge against the net. Kicking out her foot, she found that the net continued under the surface. What strange creatures might lurk in an underground hot spring that only a simple net could keep out?
Vrell washed quickly and thoroughly, scrubbing the layer of grime from her body with heavenly honeysuckle soap. Then she scrubbed her clothes. When she finished, she reluctantly returned to her padded prison and stray’s tunic, both sopping wet, and snuck back up to her bed for the night.
Vrell entered the large room, realizing it was likely considered small by giants’ standards. A plain fireplace filled the wall opposite the door. Two long beds occupied the side walls. A small straw mattress had been placed beside the door for Vrell to use. Jax and Khai sat near the fireplace whispering. Vrell settled onto the firm mattress with a smile on her face and stared at the stone beam of the high ceiling above. Wet or not, she was clean. Joy filled every tingling pore. She laid her head on the pillow and shut her eyes.
A thick pressure flooded her mind. On top of her already aching head, the tension brought a tear down her cheek. Had the hot water aggravated her headache? Or maybe the venison had worsened it. It had been very rich.
I sense you! an elderly man’s monotone voice droned in her mind. Tell me your name!
Vrell stiffened and yanked the covers up to her chin. She fortified the walls around her thoughts, but the pressure grew. She sensed confusion. A bright orange light. Heat and…iron? Wetness? No, that was her clothes.
Hello, new one. Welcome to our ears. My, how strong your presence is. Who are you?
Mother? Vrell sat up in bed and twisted around. Khai and Jax had stopped whispering. Both sat very still. Vrell’s heart pounded in her chest. Was her mother nearby?
A man yelled, Who’s there?
Blood! Blood was on her arm! Vrell swiped her shoulder, but the wetness would not dissipate. Something had died. Tears streamed down Vrell’s cheeks. So sad. The baby. An orphan. All alone. She shook her head, confused, and pulled her blankets up to her chin. Something tickled her legs and she twitched. She threw down the blankets and swatted at her legs. A spider?