Page 5 of Scars Beneath a Serpent’s Scales

She cast a curious glance around the room. Regina lounged in the bathing tub behind a partition, only her feet visible, and Liana busied herself slathering her skin with an assortment of oils, but no one elaborated.

That feeling of otherness twisted behind Emmeline’s sternum again, but she raised her brows at Myrella. “Did you now?”

It wasn’t surprising that they’d gone out. Instructors at the Academy were allowed one school night off duty per week. Emmeline was the only one who didn’t partake, trekking to the cliffs every night to conduct her readings.

That was sanctioned by the Temple Master, though, in order to corral her overly insistent magic. She could have taken a night off if she liked, but she couldn’t afford to skip her personal missions in favor of taverns and incense dens.

It was better this way. To keep everyone at arm’s length.

Myrella waved off the taunts, but she wasn’t able to banish her rosy blush. “He was very kind, and yes we did speak outside near the docks for most of the evening.”

“Are you sure all you did was speak?” Charisse encouraged with a click of her tongue and a wiggle of her brows.

When the others joined in on the teasing, a beat of longing weighed Emmeline down, but she shoved it aside.

Charisse’s eyes glazed over from the drugs she was smoking, and Emmeline’s throat tightened as she took another long drag from the roll at her fingertips, a sweet, slightly burnt scent puncturing the air.

“You’re certain that strain is safe, Charisse?” Emmeline asked. She unplaited the two dainty braids pulling her hair back from her face, busying herself to hide any hint that she knew too much about the effects of tainted drugs and poisons.

“It’s as safe as the tinctures you use for your readings every evening.” The Apothecary Studies instructor—teaching everything from growing to harvesting to crafting—dismissed her concern. “These were bought from my personal supplier. Good for a bit of fun and relaxation, nothing more.”

“Okay,” Emmeline said. Swallowing, she tried not to sound like she was reprimanding her, to put herself even more on the outside than she already was. “But be careful. You know what they’re saying about the recreational stuff. Even harmless oils and incense are turning up contaminated nowadays.”

“It’s true,” Myrella added. “I spent six hours yesterday double-checking all of the Academy’s stores at the Temple Master’s request.”

That surprised Emmeline given that the Academy grew and processed many of their own oils, tinctures, and herbs used to conduct readings. The supplies had been carefully harvested since the days the Angels created the seven Gallantian Warrior clans and Valyrie imparted her celestial magic onto the Starsearchers. For centuries, the materials used for sessions had also been used recreationally, as Charisse did tonight. From her window-perch, she puffed sweet smoke from the end of a lit roll of herbs, and nerves prickled Emmeline’s skin.

Different strains were grown to ease the mind and relax muscles rather than enhancing fated connections, but some created hallucinations or worse, and it was always tricky to ensure proper portions. Those were the ones growing more dangerous as imports to and from the isles became less reliable and the drug problem grew worse.

But despite her glassy eyes, Charisse gave Emmeline a grim nod that said she understood the severity of the issue and was being careful. Emmeline worried her lip but didn’t respond.

“Oh, who cares about whatever Char is smoking right now? Little Myrella is going to have herself her first battle-worn soldier!” Liana cheered, flicking her sheet of ice-blonde hair over her shoulder as she perched beside Charisse in the windowsill, its round frame pressing them together.

“Please,” Myrella scoffed. “I’m only two years younger than you, Liana, yet you act as though it’s two hundred.”

“Two years isn’t much when warriors can live to five hundred,” Emmeline said, attempting to aid Myrella, who nodded emphatically.

“But some say you don’t become a woman until you’ve fucked a soldier,” Liana taunted, dragging her fingertips over Charisse’s knee.

Myrella argued, “Who says that?”

Liana shrugged and took a drag from whatever Charisse was smoking. The star-flecked navy sky beyond their huddled frames wavered beneath the smoke. Emmeline could just make out a few of the Fates’ major constellations. Once, all twelve lined the skies, but ever since one suffered a brutal death long ago, only eleven shone.

“My grandmother taught it to me. She was very popular,” Liana hummed as she exhaled, the smoke obscuring the rest of the constellations from Emmeline’s view.

“My mother claims it, too,” Regina tossed from the bathing tub, water splashing across the stone floor.

Nose pointing up, Myrella spun toward them, her wet hair sending a sprinkle of water droplets over Emmeline’s skin and the mirror above the wash basins. “He wouldn’t be my first! Just the first warrior I’ve been with who’s seen true battle. And it’s a fruitless conversation anyway, because he’s leaving tomorrow.”

“Leaving?” Regina sputtered with a commotion that sounded like she launched herself from the tub. Her head of dark, luxurious curls popped around the partition’s frame, an arm banded around her breasts and golden skin dripping.

“Yes, he has family matters to attend back home,” Myrella stated, her chin lifting even higher.

Liana clicked her tongue, chiding Myrella’s soldier’s inability to show her a true night of pleasure before he left.

Emmeline gathered her towels and soaps, ducking behind the second bathing partition, as the others chattered on about which instructors were sleeping together besides Liana and Charisse, and about the mysterious new sparring instructor rumor said would be joining the Academy after the last retired unexpectedly to travel the isles.

The water from the tap was blessedly hot, steam pooling over the edge as it filled. Emmeline stripped down, grateful for the partition shielding the bits of blood that still flecked her skin. Once the lavender oil she’d poured into the basin was permeating the air and the water was as high as the tub could bare, she sank in and reclined against the edge, allowing their voices to waft together.