Page 41 of Death of a Mortal

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Miss Melda showedus around the laundry room—the various wash stations, the endless clothing lines with small fires spaced throughout. She explained that the fire helped dry the clothes and linens faster.

She showed us around the folding stations and explained how a bed sheet was folded versus a pillowcase (some were large and square, others small and round), a towel (which could be large, medium, or small, all folded differently), or table linens (there were formal and informal).

All the folding instructions were a lot to take in, and of course, it was where she assigned us. She explained we wouldn’t touch any clothing. That was for the skilled launderers.

Then she eyed us and said we wouldn’t touchanythinguntil we bathed.

She introduced us to three other women in the laundry room, all of whom smiled pleasantly at us and then continued their washing and hanging. I caught one of them staring just a moment too long at my healing wounds.

Miss Melda grabbed two plain towels from a folded stack and handed one to Nella and one to me. “The servants’ quarters and baths are this way. If you’ll follow me, please, quickly. I must get back to work at once.”

I turned to Nella and mouthed “baths,” which earned a smile from her. Folding laundry wouldn’t be so bad. Not if it meant we were together, we had a place to sleep, and food to eat. Maybe the prince really had done us a favor.

The laundry servants all slept in the same room, with a row of small beds along two parallel walls and a lit fireplace at the end. All the beds were identical with white linens and pillows and a green blanket at the foot. All perfectly made.

From a cabinet beside the fireplace, Miss Melda pulled out two setsof uniforms for each of us. They matched the one she was wearing—a simple long-sleeved gray tunic with a matching pair of loose-fitting pants. The thin shoes were the same green as the king’s crest on the right sleeve of the tunic. It wasn’t pretty, but it was clean and soft.

This was shaping up to be better than our lives in Briarstead, even if we were considered servants to the royal fae of Ashenholt. That was a depressing thought…

“The bathing chamber is through this door here. Take the rest of the evening to wash up and rest. You’ll take the last two beds on this side.” She gestured to the ones closest to the fireplace on the wall opposite the door we’d come through. “You’ll start bright and early tomorrow morning. I come through and wake everyone promptly at six. I’ll have one of the other ladies show you around more of the servants’ areas after breakfast linens are done in the morning.”

“Thank you, Miss Melda.” I was honestly thankful.

“Thanks, Miss Melda, for being so kind,” Nella added.

With a smile, she backed out of the room and left Nella and me to it.

We both ran straight for the bathroom, eager for a bath.

There were four large basins in the center of the chamber, currently empty, each atop a grate with fire logs beneath. I’d heard about heated water baths but never thought I’d get to take one myself. This was luxury compared to what we were used to.

There were four throne-like chairs with chamber pots positioned underneath off to one side, each behind a movable screen for privacy. That wasdefinitelya luxury.

On the other side of the room were four sinks spaced along a counter, each with a pitcher for water.

As I took a match from a container on the counter to light two basin’s grates, the excitement over a heated bath fizzled out when I caught sight of myself in the mirror above the sink.

This was the first time I’d looked in a mirror since we left Briarstead. Since Aemilia gave me these wounds and blinded me in one eye.

The half-healed skin was gruesome. No wonder people stared. Jagged pink skin stretched from my left temple, down the side of my face and neck, to my collarbone. One tendril snaked from the main line at my cheek to the corner of my left eye. The pain was mostly gone, and the wounds were healing pretty quickly—that salve from the stranger couple and the banshee’s magic combined seemed to have helped. So there was that, at least.

As I got closer to the mirror, I saw that the iris was completely devoid of color, the whole thing as black as the pupil.

My green eyes were my favorite thing about my appearance. And half of that had been taken away from me.

My knuckles were white from gripping the counter. Seeing the forming scars, the black that replaced the green, sparked that angry beast in my chest.

Aemilia. Cassius. Caedryn. Purple-eyed blacksmith.

“Naci…?” Nella appeared behind me in the reflection in the mirror.

“It’s fine. I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s take our baths and get some sleep.”

The sight had significantly dimmed my mood.

We both washed our hair three times with the lavender-scented soap we found, then brushed out the tangles in our wet hair. I braided Nella’s hair like I used to and left mine to dry down.