Bloodguard

chapter 9

Leith

Jakeb’s daughter comes to stand at the side of the tub, wiping ash from her fingers along the apron she’s tied around her breeches. Ash? On a noble? She must have been doing something in the fireplace.

“All right, here I come,” she says.

I shrug. “Really? I haven’t even touched you.”

“Is this seriously how we’re starting?” she demands and just stands there.

I grumble. At her speed, foreplay is going to take all night.

She’s beautiful—stunning, even—but still a noble. Sleeping with her is simply another task I must perform to keep me fed and to care for my family. At least that’s what I tell myself.

She scatters dried mint and fruit peels along the surface of the water for several minutes, reaching back into her apron to grab another handful to sprinkle.

My eyelids grow heavy. Unsurprising, given how warm this water is.

My muscles relax, and I sink deeper, blinking several times to stay alert. Just because I willingly whored myself out tonight doesn’t mean I’m safe here.

Jakeb’s daughter returns to the kitchen table and shuffles around before returning. She tosses more flowers into the bath, dusting her hands against each other to get every petal, all the while pretending a gladiator doesn’t lie naked in front of her, at her mercy.

She walks back to the table and this time hefts the basket. Glass clinks, and there are some scrunching noises. The way she crosses the room is more in tune with a servant accustomed to demanding work than a woman of her status.

She sets the basket on the floor and kneels down to rummage through it, probably tired of making the trek back and forth from table to tub. Maybe saving her energy for later…

There are a multitude of plants in the basket, some so bright they glow, others drying in jars sprinkled with large salt crystals. Others yet have dense black leaves I’ve never seen before intermixed with bright petals.

I make out juniper and eucalyptus, mostly by scent. Everything else, while fragrant, is unfamiliar and potentially poisonous. I sit up a bit in the water, muscles tensing. What is she up to?

Like a guard skilled with a sword, she pulls a long knife from a hidden pocket—

I whip my hand out, sloshing water over the edges of the tub as I snag her narrow wrist. And squeeze. She grunts but doesn’t scream. I knew I couldn’t trust her—or any of this.

Her blue eyes flare. “How dare you touch me.”

My jaw clenches. How dare I? “I can’t screw you without touching you. Even I’m not that good. And your father paid me to lay with you, not to lay still while you cut me. Drop the knife.”

“I’m not here to cut you, gladiator, and I’m definitely not here to lay with you,” she snaps. “And my father had nothing to do with it. This idea was mine.”

She jerks her wrist, and I narrow my gaze. I reach out with my other hand and carefully grasp the knife, squeezing her wrist until she releases the weapon. Only then do I let her hand go.

“What idea?” I lean forward, but my sore muscles protest and I sit back again.

“I’m a healer.” She answers without really answering, then points her finger to the jars lining the wall and waves her other hand around the room.

Confusion is an unfamiliar feeling that doesn’t sit well with me.

Something’s not right here. She wanted me. I sensed it in the way she looked at me in the arena…or was that what I wanted—someone to see me as more than a brutal killer? Maybe she could have if I hadn’t murdered her escort.

She holds her palm out for her knife. “Well?”

“You’re here to mend my injuries?” I raise one eyebrow. “And nothing else?”

She nods, and I grudgingly hand the knife back to her.

It’ll be easy enough to disarm her again.

She moves to the sink area and sets the weapon down. Then she glides her fingers along a shelf of jars filled with colorful powders. I thought they were spices when I first saw them, but the way she inspects them suggests they’re meant for something else. I should have guessed. The meal I had wasn’t prepared here.

Using tremendous scrutiny, she chooses one as bright and orange as lily pollen and another that is so deep brown it could be mistaken for black. With a practiced flip of her hand, she shakes out enough to where she’s satisfied and mashes her ingredients into a paste.

Few healers remain in Old Erth. It’s why they charge as much as they do and why Mother can’t help Dahlia without more coin. Many know the basics—how to stop a bleed or splint broken limbs—but when it comes to infections or poisons, you either beat it or you don’t.

“Who taught you to heal?” I ask.

“I learned the fundamentals from Neela. You remember Neela? My dear, sweet, grandmotherly governess you couldn’t wait to fu—”

“Hey.” I wave a hand. “Everyone makes mistakes.”

She grins.

I eye all the plants and petals floating in this tub. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

My comment wipes the grin off her face.

I hadn’t meant to offend. What I meant was, only the wealthiest, most powerful of Arrow have the privilege to hire healers—they don’t become healers. From my experience, the nobles don’t work, and they definitely don’t get their hands dirty.

“My name is Leith,” I tell her and want to kick myself. Why would she care what my name is?

She blinks at me, then answers quietly, “I’m Maeve.”

There’s some shift in the air between us. It makes me aware that I’m naked and that she’s standing close to me. I lift some of the peels she placed in the tub and toss them closer to my feet. “What do you do with all this shit?”

“This ‘shit’ is meant to calm you, at least partially.” She scrubs her hands on her apron, clearly irritated.

“The herbs were meant to sedate me?” I ask, realizing I would be more on edge right now if they weren’t. They had lulled me close to sleep, but I didn’t black out. I’m vulnerable in a tub filled with sleeping draught, which is a risk I can’t afford to take. I abruptly pull my knees up, water sloshing, and brace my hands on the side of the tub to stand.

“I can’t treat you if you start thrashing, and partially sedated or not, this is going to hurt,” she insists, her gaze fixed on something on the other side of the room. “Now sit back and let me work.”

When I don’t move, her big eyes lock on mine. “Please, Leith.”

Something in her earnest tone has me sinking down again. Dazzling stupidity? Yeah. Probably.

She wants something from me. They all do. But I’ll play along for now.

The sooner I find out what the healer wants, the quicker I can use it against her.