The claw-foot tub was large enough for two fully grown adults to stretch their legs and arms. There was not one but two standing mirrors, one on the other side of the tub, and another beside the vanity. The space was spotless and smelled like lemons.

“What do you think? Is it suitable?”

Shaking my head, I turned back to the main room. Ten of my old bedchambers could fit in this space, and there’d still be room leftover. For some inane reason, the back of my throat burned. “This is more than suitable.”

“Good.” Aios swept out of the bathing chamber, stopping beside me. Her head tilted. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah. Yes.” I cleared my throat.

She hesitated for a moment and then glided toward the doors near the table. “Through here, you can access the balcony. It’s rather large, and there is a seating area outside. I would suggest keeping the doors closed when you rest. The temperature doesn’t change a lot, but colder winds do come in from the mountains sometimes.”

Mountains?

“Would you like a fire started?” she asked.

“No-no, thank you.”

“If you change your mind at any point, all you need to do is pull on the rope by the door, and someone will answer.” Aios tied back the curtains on the bed, revealing several furs and a small heap of pillows. “What would you like to eat? Two cooks come by daily. Arik and Valrie are both amazing. There’s nothing too small or too large for them.”

“I…I don’t know,” I admitted, for once having no idea what I wanted to eat.

A small smile returned. “How about I have them whip you up a small plate of soup and bread?”

“That sounds okay.”

“Perfect. I will have hot water brought up for you, and…” She pressed a forefinger to her lips. “Is it safe to assume that you didn’t bring any clothing with you?”

“It’s safe to assume that.” I toyed with the fold of the cloak.

“Well, that won’t do. I’ll see what I can scrounge up for you.”

“Thank you.”

“Is there anything else you need at the moment?”

I started to say no. “Wait. Where do those doors lead?” I pointed at the ones behind the sitting area.

“To the chambers next door,” she answered. “To Nyktos’ rooms.”

My heart leapt somewhere unconnected to my body. “His rooms are adjoined with mine?”

“They are.”

That made sense. I was his Consort.

Aios lingered near the door, one hand toying with the chain of her necklace. “I don’t know the circumstances that led to your arrival, but what I do know is that I trust no one in either realm more than Nyktos, nor would I feel safer anywhere else,” she said, and her gaze met mine. Her eyes were haunted in a way that reminded me of the woman who had been standing outside with Nor. “I just thought you should know that.”

I watched her slip from the room. I didn’t know how long I stood there. It could have been a minute or five. When I started walking toward the curtained doors, I wasn’t even sure why.

Tugging aside the wispy white drapes, I pushed open the glass doors and stepped out. The space was large. A wide, deep-seated chair sat near the railing, along with a daybed. There were no winding staircases, no way down from here except for a long fall. But the balcony was connected to the one next door.

To Ash’s bedchamber. There was a similar chair on his, and I wondered if he ever sat out here.

I wondered why he’d put me in the room next to his.

A cool breeze lifted the pale strands of my hair as I crept between the lounges. Goosebumps spread across my flesh. I stared up and out, placing my hands on the railing. The stone was smooth and cold under my palms and I saw the twinkling lights of the city, and beyond, the distant rocky domes and cliffs encased in mist…or clouds. Were there even clouds here? I looked down and gasped.

Color.

I saw color.

Beyond the washed-out courtyard, there were trees. Hundreds of them. Thousands of them grew between the palace and the glittering lights of Lethe, and they were nothing like the ones I had seen on the road into the Shadowlands. Their trunks were gray, as were the twisted, sweeping branches, but their limbs weren’t bare. These were full of heart-shaped leaves.

Leaves the color of blood.

Aios returned rather quickly with food and the first article of clothing she had managed to obtain. It was a belted robe made of chenille or some other soft material I’d never owned before. She hung that on one of the hooks inside the bathing chamber.

Turned out, I was hungry, managing to devour the soup and several chunks of the toasted, garlicky, and buttery bread before the man I’d seen in the stables arrived with several pails of steaming-hot water. He introduced himself as Baines, and he hadn’t gotten close enough for me to see his eyes, but I assumed that he too was a god. Several pitchers of water sat on the floor while Aios dropped some sort of frothing salt into the tub that smelled of lemon and sugar.

Once more alone, I made my way into the bathing chamber. Aios had turned off the overhead light, leaving only the sconces on. The soft glow was more than enough to see myself in one of the standing mirrors.

No wonder Lailah had asked if I had been thrown into this realm.

Specks of dried blood dotted my face, mixing with the freckles. Both stood out starkly on my pale skin. There were also streaks of red in my hair, half of which had escaped its braid and now hung in tangles. My eyes appeared too wide. The green too bright. I looked feverish.

Or terrified.

I didn’t know if I felt that. If I felt anything as I let the cloak fall to the floor. My lip curled at the sight of my night rail. It was more red than white. There would be no salvaging it. I carefully pulled it over my head, wincing at the movement. Dropping the ruined garment, I scooped the braid and the loose strands of my hair over my shoulder as I turned halfway in the mirror.

“Gods,” I hissed at the ropey, raised streaks across my upper back. They were an angry shade of pinkish-red. Blood had beaded along one of the stripes.

I really wished I could’ve carved Tavius’s heart out.

The utter lack of remorse I felt for what I’d done to my stepbrother should’ve concerned me as I stepped into the tub, but it didn’t. I’d do it again because not even the near-scalding water could erase the suffocating memory of his breath against my cheek.

I eased into the deep tub, air hissing between my teeth as the lemony-scented water touched the edges of the wounds the whip had left behind. Closing my eyes and clenching my jaw, I slowly lifted my fingers from the sides of the tub and began unwinding the braid. Picking up the bar of soap, I began scrubbing at my skin and then did my best to reach the raised welts on my back as my thoughts tiptoed their way through the events of the last two days. Using my gift to bring Marisol back seemed like it’d happened a lifetime ago. I still couldn’t believe that King Ernald was dead. The man had been healthy as far as I knew. I hoped Ezra was okay, and I hoped she listened to me. And my mother? She would remain Queen unless Ezra married. But she was probably relieved. I was sure that Ezra was, too, knowing there was a chance for the Rot to be stopped. And I…I wished I had my dagger. Ash had taken it. Would he give it back? So caught up in my thoughts, I didn’t realize that anyone had entered the bedchamber until I heard the steps outside the bathing room door.

Weaponless, I twisted just enough to see who had intruded as I reached for the sides of the tub. My heart thumped heavily at the sight of who stood there.

The Primal.

He said nothing as he stared, his silvery eyes unnaturally bright as he looked at my back. His chest rose with a sharp breath. “I cannot wait to pay that bastard a visit in the Abyss.”