Biyu cleared her throat. “Will you give me privacy to bathe, or will you continue watching me?”
“I can watch if you’d prefer.”
“I won’t even dignify that with a response,” she seethed.
A soft chuckle rumbled from his chest and he stifled a yawn with another stretch. “Fifteen minutes. That’s all I’m giving you.”
“That’s not enough time?—”
“That’s plenty of time for you to bathe.” He left no room for conversation as he headed to the exit, gave her an inquisitive, clinical stare from head to toe—assessing how much damage she could do in that short amount of time, maybe—and then left the room.
Biyu waited a minute for him to burst back inside, but when he didn’t, she rushed over to where the two scrolls were tucked under the mattress. She yanked them out and quickly unrolled the first one, her hands trembling so bad she dropped the second one on the floor. She inhaled sharply and glanced backward, but he didn’t enter. She scanned the scroll quickly.
Her eyes glazed over the introductory paragraphs, all of which held some sort of philosophy on magic and the extensive history of discovering a certain spell—she didn’t understand half of it and didn’t have time to decipher it. She continuedunraveling the scroll, looking over her shoulder, and scanning the contents.
She blinked when she reached the middle of the scroll, where the spell’s purpose was written.Forgetfulness.
Her fingers shook. That was …perfectfor what she needed.
She could make Nikator forget this whole idea of following her around, having his suspicions, and everything relating to her. If she could make him forget about her altogether, then she could get rid of him. Hope and relief bloomed in her chest so intently that she wanted to cry; the backs of her eyes burned and she hastily rolled the scroll up. She would have to read and learn how to use the spell as soon as possible.
A knock sounded on the door. “I don’t hear you in the water. What are you doing in there?”
Biyu jumped, dropping the scroll on the floor. She bent down and picked them both up, wincing as pain shot through her injured, bruised knee. Her pulse quickened as a lie flowed from her. “I’m just looking for what to wear after my bath! Stop breathing down my neck.”
Nikator didn’t respond.
She jammed the two scrolls back in their place and hurried to the tub. Excitement and fear made her giddy. If she could make Nikator forget everything about her, then she could move freely—withoutanyguards! Maybe it would get in the way of her weekly garden strolls with Liqin, but maybe she could just … not go to them? She doubted anyone would notice or care. Liqin would probably be more than happy not to be in her presence.
Biyu stripped her clothes and left them in a pile on the floor, kicking them away from the tub so as not to accidentally slosh water on them, and slipped inside the bathtub. The instant the hot water touched her skin, a soft moan escaped from her and she sank into the warm depths, her eyes closing as the heat curled over her.
She would have loved to lie there until the water grew tepid, then cold. Her daily evening bath was her favorite time to unwind, relax, and simply exist without worrying about anything. But with the threat of Nikator barging inside at any given minute, she begrudgingly began washing her body with soap made with mung bean powder, honey, and a variety of herbs and flowers that gave it a gentle, floral scent. She dunked it under water until it became a cakey paste and then began scrubbing it over her body and hair, then submerged her head under the surface to cleanse it off.
She had just finished washing her body when there was another impatient knock. “That’s enough now. You’ve been in there for more than fifteen minutes.”
“That’s not possible,” she said. “I?—”
“Do you want me to enter?”
She cursed under her breath and rose from the water. It cascaded over her body loudly and she wrung it out from her hair. “Fine! Just give me a few minutes to dry off.”
Stepping out of the tub, she unfolded the towel and rubbed it down her body. Droplets of water dripped onto the floor as she hastily tried to dry herself off. She kept one eye on the door the entire time, praying that Nikator didn’t choose now of all times to come inside and declare that she was taking too long. When the towel brushed over her knee, she hissed and turned her attention to the injury; the bruises had worsened, becoming a deep, inky purple color.
Nikator knocked again. “I’m coming in.”
“W-wait! I’m not dressed!” She wrapped the towel over her body, tucking her arms over it to keep it from falling as she waddled over to her wardrobe. She hesitated at the long line of dresses filed within. If Nikator was planning on watching her through the night, then she couldn’t wear her night robe—which was a simple under-dress she wore beneath all of her clothes.
She pulled on her inner clothing and then hesitated over which dress to wear on top. When he knocked again, more impatiently than before, she picked the first one to her left and began dressing. She had just tied the sash around her midsection when he shoved the door open and entered. She turned to him sharply, heart racing as he scoured the area with a pointed scowl.
“Well, aren’tyouimpatient,” she said, placing her hands on her hips. “What do you think I’m doing in here? Planning my escape?”
“What took you so long?” He crossed over to one of the tables, where her calligraphy was currently drying. He picked up one of the pages and scanned it, then glanced at the rest.
Did he think she had written a secret message?
“I was bathing,” she answered, heading over to the bench by the window. The servants had closed the shutters when they had come with the bathtub and had lit the oil lamps, casting dim, orange light around the room. She pulled the bench to her vanity and sat on it. She tried to act as naturally as possible, even though her insides were quaking with every strained breath. “I’m going to ignore the fact that it’s highly improper for you to be in this room right now, especially now that I’ve finished bathing, while my hair isn’t even dry. But I think it’s rude for you to suggest I was doing anything other than bathing. Do you really think fifteen minutes is enough time for a woman to cleanse herself of all the filth from the day?” She detangled her hair with the wide-toothed comb, clucking her tongue as the words continued to pour. “I barely even got to wash my hair! Or apply any oils on my skin!”
“You’re rather spoiled for a prisoner.” He released the parchment and let it drop on the table. He went to the other side of her chambers and squinted at the bowls of fruit the servants had left for her earlier that day.
