The Cogsmith's Daughter (Desertera #1)(30)

As intrigued as Aya was, she forgot all about the farmer when she walked into the bathing house. The building was divided into two large rooms, one for women and one for men, both with separate entrances. Steam filled the bathing room, radiating from four buckets of water boiling on iron stoves in each corner. In the center of the women’s room sat a large tub made of wood and bound with metal rings, where four women shared a bath. Smaller tubs, reserved for those wealthy enough to afford private bathing, lined the edges of the room.

A servant wrapped in a sunset orange toga greeted Aya. “You must be Miss Aya.” She gestured toward Aya’s dress. Aya still wore the ensemble from Lord Varick. “Please allow me to escort you to your private bath.”

Aya’s jaw dropped. “Private bath?”

“Absolutely.” The servant bowed her head. “Lord Varick has insisted upon it.”

“Well, who am I to argue with Lord Varick?”

The servant smiled. “Right this way, Miss Aya.”

Aya followed the servant to a tub positioned against the back wall of the bathing house, between two of the fires. Clear, steaming water filled the tub, and as Aya removed her clothing, she felt the steam kiss her bare skin. The servant helped Aya step into the bath. As Aya’s muscles slipped beneath the water’s surface, they began to relax for the first time in ten years. Even Aya’s stomach, which twisted with guilt at all this water being spent on her body, slowly uncurled itself and allowed her to soak peacefully in the hot bath.

The servant held up three vials filled with liquid. The first one contained a rich yellow liquid, which shimmered as she poured it into the bath. “Lemongrass oil, to revitalize and cleanse your pores.”

Aya breathed in, her nose crinkling at the strange scent. It smelled of sour and shrubbery and sun.

The servant removed the second cork, which belonged to a pinkish liquid. “Rosewood oil.” The servant poured it into the tub. “To give you strength.”

This one smelled of the wildflower fields on the edge of the villages and the wood of the barrel.

“Peppermint oil.” The servant uncorked the last vial and sprinkled a few drops into the bath. “To sharpen your senses.”

The drops from this vial were almost clear, perhaps a faint yellow. Aya’s nose felt empty and clear as the odor reached it. The only way she could think to describe it was as the smell of cold.

The servant left Aya to soak in the oils for a long time, until the skin on Aya’s fingers and toes began to shrivel. As she relaxed in the tub, Aya wondered if Lord Varick had chosen the oils himself, if he intended for her to gain beauty, strength, and sharpness during this bath. Whether the potion had been intentional or not, Aya hoped it would bring her those gifts. She needed all the help she could get—with King Archon and with Willem.

After a while, the servant returned to wash Aya’s hair. She held Aya’s head as she dipped it back in the water, letting it soak in the soft smells of the bath oils. Aya’s head felt incredibly light as the servant massaged it, scrubbing away all the dirt and weaving her fingers through it to unwind the tangles. Aya had never had her hair washed by someone else—not since she was a child and her father helped her bathe with a washcloth and well water—and for a moment, she almost believed she was a noblewoman. When the servant finished, she lifted Aya’s head and poured a fresh bowl of water over it.

As Aya stepped out of the tub, the servant wrapped her in a red toga. The servant also affixed Aya’s hair in a red wrap and draped a red cloak over her shoulders.

Aya touched the soft fabric of the new outfit. “Why so much red?”

“Red is lucky. It will make you fierce. It will make men’s blood boil.”

Aya raised her eyebrows. If she had any doubt that Lord Varick had arranged the symbolism behind her bathing experience, the red erased it. However, she still wondered what the servant knew and whether she was one of the little birds Varick mentioned. Aya smiled at her. “Thank you.”

The servant shrugged. “It is what you need. Besides, red is beautiful with your tan skin and rich brown hair. Maybe not the green eyes, though.”

Aya laughed. “Thank you.”

The servant shrugged again, handing Aya the clothing she had come in, wrapped up in a black and purple ball. “Now, you walk home fast, and stay all covered. When you go to the palace, you walk faster and cover even more. Lord Varick will be very mad with me if you get dirty.”

“It won’t be your fault if dirt finds me. It will be the wind or the ground.”

The servant smirked. “Who am I to argue with Lord Varick?”

Aya didn’t like her words being turned on her.

She followed the servant’s instructions, walking quickly. Once she was outside of the bathing house and into the confined space of the hovel’s common room, she could smell the aroma of the oils lingering on her skin and hair. While she still thought it was wasteful, she had to admit, it gave her an enormous boost in confidence to know that she smelled so beautiful. And rich. She wouldn’t need to wear Lord Varick’s house colors this time—no one would question her place in the palace now.



*



When Dellwyn came home from the grocery merchants in Portside, they shared a simple dinner of cacti meat and wheat bread. Aya was starving. She hadn’t realized that she had been at the bathing house all day, missing lunch. After dinner, Dellwyn showed Aya some basic seduction tactics. Dellwyn started with her best suggestion for helping Aya recover her image in front of King Archon and moved into how Aya should perform her next approach. She also taught Aya how to fend off unwanted advances without offending. And just in case, Dellwyn told her what to do if she found a man that she did want to seduce to the point of action.