Vorakkars still seated, before he turned to one of the female servants filling the tub. To her, he ordered, “Wash the vekkiri. Now.”
The female servant bowed her head, keeping her gaze averted from his eyes, as was expected. She crossed to Vienne, still standing motionless in her sheer dress, and the human female didn’t even flinch when the servant peeled it away from her body. The strange material crumbled like parchment around her on the floor, leaving her nude and shaking.
Clenching my fists, I looked away from her and straight into the eyes of the Dothikkar. Old memories—my sister’s screams among them—arose, my pupils dilating with them. They had humiliated my sister in much the same way.
I wondered about how harsh of a punishment I would receive if I assassinated the Dothikkar. Right then. Right there. I imagined unsheathing my sword and plunging it into his widening gut, spilling his innards all over his clean floors in his grand hall. Perhaps the bloodlust was a little too bright in my eyes, which had perhaps begun to glow a brighter red, because the Dothikkar recoiled at whatever he saw and broke my gaze.
He hated that I was Vorakkar, no doubt, but he certainly liked the protection of my sword and the wares that passed from my horde.
He was wary of me because I was unpredictable. If only he knew the thoughts that went through my sick mind…he’d never let me into his prized city again.
The Vorakkar of Rath Kitala stood then, no doubt sensing the waves of rage rolling from my still form. He rounded the table and smiled easily at the Dothikkar, cutting through the thickened tension that had suddenly rippled through the room. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Rath Rowin’s hand twitch towards his sword.
Rath Kitala stopped in front of the bathing tub, shielding the small vekkiri female who had just entered its waters. The Dothikkar frowned.
“Vekkiri like their privacy in matters like these, Dothikkar,” Rath Kitala said smoothly.
The Dothikkar pressed his lips together, his eyes flashing. “No doubt you have learned this from your vekkiri Morakkari.”
His human queen, the one he had taken from a human settlement and settled in his furs instead.
“Among many things, lysi,” Rath Kitala replied. Though his tone sounded like a purr, there was a hardened edge to it, a subtle warning. The Dothikkar might have power here, in his glittering city, but the Vorakkar was stronger, quicker. We all were.
A splash of water came from behind him and I heard, rather than saw, the female servant scrubbing down the girl relentlessly.
A gasp came next. From the servant. The sound of sloshing water suddenly came to a halt. A breath of a moment passed before it started back again, the scrubbing quicker, rougher.
All the while, the Dothikkar stared across at the Vorakkar of Rath Kitala, simmering anger seeming to heat the air around him.
Then came the small voice of the servant with, “She is bathed, Dothikkar.”
“Rothi kiv,” came his prompt snap and the servant immediately departed the grand hall, the others who’d brought in the bath water after her. Only the guard from the dungeons and the Dothikkar’s lead advisor, the Prikri, remained.
Rath Kitala removed the furs around his shoulders, leaving his own chest bare, and wordlessly handed it back to the girl, though he kept his eyes on the king.
There was shuffling, water plunking in fat droplets onto the floor. Vienne’s shackles chimed together.
Then came her voice from behind the Vorakkar, soft and shuddering.
“Dothikkar, I have come to bring you a message from Lozza, the Ghertun king of the Dead Mountain.”
Even Rath Kitala drew an intake of breath and he stepped away, rounding to peer down at the human girl with disbelief.
It left her in full view and not only did my fists clench, my cock thickened, tightening the front of my trews. Even the Dothikkar seemed to be at a loss for words as he stared, frozen in place.
And she was a sight to behold. Even the Vorakkar of Rath Loppar drew forward in his chair, as if pulled by an unseen force.
Gone was the dark filth that had covered her from head to toe. She’d coated her hair in something blackened before—my fingers had come away dark when I’d rubbed the strands between my fingers last night—but the bath revealed shining white hair, swaying to the middle of her back, wet tendrils clinging to her cheeks. Her skin was pale, almost translucent against the dark fur cloak