Page 47 of Kingdom Of Veil And Vow

“Or you could leave the room altogether?” she says, already walking towards the tub.

“Unfortunately, that is not an option.” She dips her hand into the water, and I blurt, “I’m sorry that it isn’t warmer. We had to carry it in by hand.”

She sighs and faces me. “I’m not about to complain at all about having a bath. Cold water or not.”

Remembering the clean clothing Tienne packed, I quickly grab the satchel and rummage through it but stop when I see a flash of delicate white lace. Gods above. Clearing my throat, I walk to Bella and practically shove the bag at her chest, murmuring about there being clean clothes before I walk back across the room and move a crate so that it’s as close to the wall as I can get it, while still leaving room enough for my legs.

With the tub at my back and a gray stone wall at my front, I stare down at my hands and pretend I can’t hear the shuffling of clothes or the gentle splash of water. My molars grind together at the dripping sounds that reverberate, and then I nearly jump when Bella quietly laughs. I contemplate asking why she is laughing, only to then think about how that might make her uncomfortable. Trapped in my own mind, I’m relieved when she breaks the tension.

“I’m trying to decide which of my two bathing situations was more awkward for you: by cloth in the cell or now, with me submerged in a tub behind you.”

The breath I take through my nose is long and slow. “I swear to you, I’m not going—”

“I know, Xander.” The use of my name cuts my words short, and I find that I can’t manage to string together any more. “In that, I suppose I do trust you.”

Nothing else is said as Bella continues her bath, my eyes locked on first my hands and then the tops of my boots. I become acutely aware of the scars at my back and the cool temperature of the air around me. When I lose things to focus on, her words invade my mind like a parasite. Tucking my hair behind my ears, I fold my arms over my chest and wonder if it’s offensive to have mentally compared her to a parasite. Then I wonder why I give a shit at all. The clean floral scent of the soap fills the space, so I focus on that, trying to decipher which scent belongs to which flower when she says my name.

“Xander.”

“Yes?”

Water splashes, and then there is a rustle of clothing. Or maybe it’s the towel wrapping around her. “My hair brush is in my cell,” she says. “And I don’t see another in the satchel.”

“You’re positive?”

I hear her move things around in the satchel, her bare feet sliding across the stone. “I’m sure.” Shit. “I know it’s a pain in the ass, but I shouldn’t let my hair dry without running a brush through it, or it will be impossible to detangle later and—”

I stand and brace my hands on my hips in thought. I shouldn’t go. It would be stupid to go, but… I take a quick look around the room. Short of the fork and tray I brought for her food, there isn’t much else that can be used as a weapon. The other hidden door is shadowed between gaps in the flame gems’ light, nearly impossible to see if you aren’t looking for it. With a sigh, I don’t second-guess myself as I stride towards the door we just came through.

“Just finish getting dressed so that you are decent when I return.”

“Decent,” she repeats, tone curious. “Okay, guardsman.” My boots are loud as I push the door open, forgoing use of the torch. “Thank you.”

Pausing at the threshold, I turn my face just enough to ensure she’ll hear me. “You’re welcome.” Then I enter the tunnel and shut the door behind me.

Chapter Thirty: Siyala

Once Xander disappears into the tunnel, I quickly pull the clothing from the satchel, a choked noise tumbling from me when the lacy white undergarments tumble to the ground.

“Highly impractical for a female locked in the dungeon,” I grumble, letting the towel that was wrapped around me fall. Slipping the undergarments on, I then tug black pants up my legs and past my hips, securing the ties that are centered at the front. A light blue tunic, more form-fitting than the others, comes next. I’m pleased that there are socks included, even if they are impractical. But I’d like to remain as clean as I can for as long as possible, so I quickly wipe the bottoms of my feet with a cloth before tugging the socks on, then using the towel to squeeze the excess water from my hair. Looking down at myself, I nod absentmindedly. I can escape in this.

Knowing time is limited, I blow out a steady breath and then do a quick walk of the perimeter of the room, stopping in front of the door that Xander just went through. I miss its outline at first glance, and it isn’t until I drag my fingers back and forth that I finally feel a small unmistakable groove in the stone.

“Clever,” I murmur, stepping to the side and sliding my hands along the wall. “Now, are there more of you?” I adopt a pattern as I search for another opening. Step, step, swipe. Rough stone meets the soft flesh of my palm, but so far, there is no break in the feel of it. Step, step, swipe. Moving in circular motions, I search high and low, sure that there must be another hidden entrance to this room.

Reflecting back, I know both Xander and Tienne must have come down into the dungeon via these secret tunnels because I hadn’t seen them leave by way of the stairs. If the purpose of these tunnels was for royals to be protected against attacks from above, then surely, there would be at least one actual exit from a room.

I pause to listen for approaching footsteps, my heart racing in my chest. When I don’t hear anything, I resume my search, moving quickly as I round the back of the room and continue to the opposite wall. Step, step, swipe. “Come on,” I whine, squinting my eyes. I’m halfway down the longest wall in the room when I hear them—Xander’s boots are loud as he makes his way back here.

Heart speeding up, I pick up the pace, skin sliding over stone in a rushed motion likely too fast to even detect— I gasp, pausing and reversing the motion of my hand until I feel it again. Cold air.

Squinting against the dim lighting, I press the tips of my fingers over the air, following it as it rises in a straight line. Though I can’t see the outline of a door, this must be it. Why else would air be seeping from a random spot in the stone? I step back and try to find markings on the wall to remember where the door is located. But it all looks like the same stupid gray stone, and Xander is close enough now that I can pick up the faintest rhythm of his heartbeat just beyond the hidden door.

I turn and look at the food laid out on the silver tray, running to grab a chunk of roasted sweet potato, my fingers searching for the air again and then following it down to the ground. There, I smear the vegetable against the stone, leaving an oily orange mark. Darting back to the crates with food, I clasp my hands behind my back just as the other door swings open and Xander steps through.

The flame gems’ glow highlights the planes of his face—broad cheekbones and a proud brow—his eyes piercing as they immediately land on mine. I hold my breath to slow my pulse as he sweeps his gaze over the room.

“All decent,” I offer lamely, wiping the remnants of the sweet potato on the underside of my tunic and hoping that it isn’t visible through the light-colored fabric.