Ashinji!
Jelena cried his name over and over in her head as she ran, half-blinded by darkness and tears. Somehow, she managed to reach the barracks without falling or running into anyone.
The barracks were deserted. All of the guards either still reveled at the feast or were on duty. She could be alone with her grief. She flung herself down on her bunk and gave in to despair. Her wish had come true, but it was all for naught. Ashinji loved her- loved her -but she didn’t think that even his love and determination could break the grip that elven societal tradition held on his life. He had said they would find a way, but she couldn’t imagine how.
Maybe I should have left Kerala before things got to this point, she thought. I can still leave…Try to find work somewhere else while I search for my father. But Lord Sen promised to help me, and he can do so much more for me than I could ever accomplish on my own.
Gods help me, what am I going to do?
What if Ashinji does something foolish, like tell Lord Sen he wishes to marry me? What if his father forbids it and Ashinji dares to defy him?
Disaster!
I can’t let that happen!
Tomorrow, she would tell Ashinji that she had been confused, that he had befuddled her with his kisses, that she really didn’t love him. He would be hurt and angry, but he would eventually get over her and move on, especially if she left Kerala. The thought of causing him such pain ripped at her heart and brought on a fresh torrent of tears.
I love him so much, but I must let him go. Gods, how am I going to let him go?
Eventually, she slept.
She awoke with a start and sat up, looking around the dim room apprehensively. The soft drone of Aneko’s snores drifted from the far corner, soothing her with its familiarity. The hazy recollection, already fading, of an unpleasant dream made her shiver.
Realizing she had slept all night in her clothes made her desperate for a bath. She rose from her bunk and went to the window to look out. The sun had just begun its climb into the sky. The castle complex lay quiet and still.
Jelena knew that most of Kerala’s inhabitants and guests would sleep late this morning. She would probably have the staff bath house to herself. She collected a clean set of garments from her chest and slipped out as quietly as she could.
As she had suspected, the bath house was deserted. This particular facility was one of two set aside for the exclusive use of the castle staff. Because of its proximity to the barracks, the guards and their families made the most use of it.
The rules were simple; the first person to use the bath in the morning built up the fire that the last person to use the bath had banked the night before. Anyone who used the bath during the course of the day would check on the fire and feed it if necessary. The system worked well, for the most part.
The tub itself lay buried in a pit lined with sand and tiles. A wooden deck had been constructed around its perimeter. Benches lined the walls; pegs driven into the plaster at regular intervals served as clothes hangers. An open space against the east wall served as an area for soaping and rinsing prior to the actual bath. The floor had been built with a slope, so that water flowed down and out through a ceramic pipe set in one corner.
The cleverest feature of the bathhouse was its system of taps. Two ceramic pipes protruded from the wall. When unplugged, they delivered streams of running water that served as showers. The water always ran cold early in the morning, but on sunny days, it often got quite warm by noon.
Jelena dropped her clean clothes on a bench and descended the short flight of stairs leading down to the firebox. After stoking the fire with fresh wood, she ascended and stripped out of her rumpled garments.
The shower water felt tolerably cool this morning. Ashinji had once said that elves truly enjoyed washing in cold water before a long hot soak. It made one appreciate the warm water all the more. Jelena wondered how any of them could stand it in winter.
In Amsara, most people bathed their entire bodies infrequently at best, and then usually in connection with a holiday or some other special occasion. Since she had come to Kerala, Jelena had grown to appreciate the benefits and pleasures of daily bathing with clear water and soft, creamy soap scented with herbs. She had come to recognize that part of the reason why she found Ashinji’s unique aroma so appealing was that he always smelled clean.
After a thorough scrub and rinse, she slipped into the warm water of the tub with a blissful sigh and closed her eyes. The tub could hold at least six people comfortably, eight if they didn’t mind a squeeze. During the early evening when most of the guards preferred to wash, they either squeezed or waited. Jelena liked coming to the bath in the early morning to avoid the rush.
Her mind drifted into fantasy. She imagined Ashinji lying in his bed, asleep. She then pictured herself lying beside him, her naked body melded to his. She lightly brushed his ear with her lips and whispered his name. He awoke and took her into his arms, and as they made love, she entwined her fingers into his beautiful golden hair.
Stop it! Thinking about him-about us-doing those things is no good!
She squeezed her legs tightly together and breathed deeply until the ferocious ache within her subsided.
She soaked until the skin on her fingers and toes began to wrinkle up like dried plums. She pushed herself up out of the tub, skin steaming, and padded over to a large basket containing a neat pile of towels. After drying her body and hair, she dressed quickly, wishing that she had remembered to bring along the small bottle of almond oil she kept for softening her skin. With a grunt of frustration, she engaged her mass of snarled locks in their lifelong battle-she and her comb against the stubbornly resistant tangle of her hair. As usual, they battled to a draw.
I would so love to comb Ashinji’s hair, she thought. It must feel like silk.
Stop it!
The sun had climbed well up above the horizon as she left the dim confines of the bathhouse, blinking rapidly in the rosy light. It dazzled her eyes and prevented her from seeing the figure that approached her along the path.
“ Look out!” a man’s voice barked as they collided.
She gasped in surprise as strong fingers gripped her shoulders. “Oh! It is you! I mean, begging your pardon, Lord Sadaiyo,” she squeaked, her throat gone dry with apprehension. He released his hold on her and stepped back.
“ You should be more careful…Watch where you’re going, girl,” Sadaiyo said mildly.
Slightly taller and heavier than Ashinji, with hair that shaded toward chestnut rather than gold, Sadaiyo looked as if he had just rolled out of bed. He wore only a thin knee-length tunic and sandals, which left little to the imagination. Until this very moment, Jelena felt certain that he had never once spoken to her.
“ You’re my father’s new messenger. Jelena, isn’t it?”
Jelena nodded. “Yes, sir. Sorry to have almost ran you…I mean, to knock into you.” She ducked her head and moved to step around Sadaiyo, but he shifted his body to block her way. Her cheeks began to warm with embarrassment.
“ I’m surprised to see anyone else out and about so early this morning. It was a very, very late night for most of us. I trust you enjoyed yourself at my wedding feast?” His voice sounded blandly pleasant, though something about the way he looked at her sent little sparks of alarm coursing through her limbs.
“ Y…Yes, my lord,” she stammered. “I…must go now.”
“ Must you? Why, we’ve only just met, and I’m quite curious. I would very much like to hear your story sometime. My little brother thinks very highly of you, did you know that?” He moved in closer and Jelena edged away to maintain the distance between them. His eyes locked onto hers and she instantly recognized what simmered within their blue-green depths. She had seen the very same thing in Duke Sebastianus’s eyes when he had looked at her.
“ Usually, I don’t pay too much attention to the things my brother likes, but this time…this time, it’s different.”
“ Uh, beg pardon, sir, but I do not understand. My Siri-dar not so good,” Jelena lied. She understood all too well. Again she tried to get past, and again Sadaiyo blocked her way.
Before she could react, he seized her wrists in an unbreakable grip and held her fast. “Listen to me, girl,” he growled. “I’ve been watching you ever since my snotty little brother dragged you in, and I like what I see. You are far too pretty to languish down here as a mere messenger, and you must know that my brother has nothing to offer you. Your life at Kerala would improve tremendously as my concubine. You’d have your own rooms in the castle, fine clothes, jewels…”
Jelena felt sick. How could a newly married man spend all night making love to his beautiful bride, then the very next day proposition another woman?
She shook her head emphatically. “Please let me go, Lord Sadaiyo,” she begged. She tried in vain to break the vise-like hold he had on her wrists.
His eyes flashed grey-green fire. “I’d consider my answer very carefully if I were you,” he said in a low, dangerous voice. “Don’t be stupid, girl. If I’ve decided that I want you, then I’ll have you, of that you can be certain. It would be a very serious mistake to turn me down, especially in favor of my brother. Think about it.” He pulled her roughly toward him and whispered in her ear, “This isn’t over.” He then dropped her hands and sauntered away, leaving her bruised and shaken.
Jelena’s knees turned to water, and she staggered backward, almost falling. Her thoughts fluttered in her head like terrified birds.
What am I going to do? I have no defense against Sadaiyo. He’s the Heir. He can do as he likes, and no one can stop him, except…
No. I can’t involve Ashinji. Things are already bad between him and his brother. This just might be enough to push him into doing something foolish. No, I must handle this myself, but how?
She ran all the way back to the barracks.