Page 98 of Lady Knight and the Thief

Cypressletoutagrowl of resignation and rose from the bed. She had barely slept at all. Instead, she had agonized over every single detail of the kiss.

She didn’t know what had come over her in the secluded alcove. The way Torren looked at her, his lips on her finger…

He was like a ravaging storm hovering on her horizon.

Torren returned the kiss like a man starved, but then…

Why hadn’t he followed her?

Time stretched, then snapped into focus with him looming over her. All Cypress wanted was to kiss him, so she did—and then ran like a coward.

And, since Torren did not follow her to her rooms or even knock on her door some hours later, Cypress had come to the conclusion that she had made an utter fool of herself and would never mention it again.

It was this damn palace. Every time she was under the protection of A’aravos Paravale, all sense seemed to leave Cypress.

At least they would depart today. Even if it was going back to the human lands, back to the life she thought she loved, to steal the Scepter from right under Caelith and Cade’s noses.

Cypress sent a silent thank you to the Dryaad as she reached for the crystal knob and cranked it to draw hot water for her bath.

Before anything else, she needed a bath. A sleepless night tangled in thoughts and sheets left Cypress sweaty and irritable.

The bath would fix it.

A nearby shelf held the soaps, various dried herbs and flowers, and a selection of oils for the bath.

Notably, Fire Vine Flowers were now present. They hadn’t been on her previous stay.

She selected the bowl of small, almost heart-shaped blooms, along with a neutral scented oil and a few herbs. Carrying them to the tub, she tossed them all into the still-filling water.

Once the bath was full, Cypress stepped over the raw cut amethyst edge and sank into the water with a hum.

Cypress sat there for quite some time with her head leaned against the edge while she basked in the familiar comfort.

When Cypress couldn’t bear her thoughts in the silence any longer, she scrubbed herself clean.

Hopefully, she and Torren would travel fast and light to the Keep.

After drying off with a soft cloth, Cypress dressed in comfortable leather pants with laces going up either thigh and hip. She sat and pulled the laces tight, tying them into bows.

Somehow, Cypress had amassed a number of garments both while traveling with Torren and while at the palace. From the shirts hanging in a cupboard, she chose a dusty purple linen option that could be worn loose around the shoulders, along with her usual armored underbust corset.

After some hesitation, Cypress let the shirt drape over one shoulder, the other bare.

Usually, Cypress had to wear fancy dresses to stay in fashion and out of suspicion at the Keep. In Faerie, she could finally dress for herself.

Perhaps that freedom was the best part of being here, away from Grethnah and the Court’s influence.

Cypress’s hair was still damp when she left her room. The strands curled more than usual in the humidity of the early hours of the day.

First, she went to the kitchens and ate a small meal while chatting with the cooks. The kitchen staff was almost entirely comprised of Small Folk, but there were other Fair Folk mulling about.

The kitchen was built to suit the smaller stature of the Small Folk, as well. Countertops were lowered significantly, while the large fire pits for enormous cauldrons of stew and other food were installed below floor level.

“There are a few more of those, if you like, I can send them down before you depart?” the Small Folk Cypress had learned was named Fiathad asked, and gave her a smile.

Cypress supposed she shouldn’t be surprised that the Small Folk knew she was about to leave with Torren, yet here she was.

“Are you sure? I’d hate to take food if someone else here needed it more?”