The public bath’s entry hall is essentially a large changing room, square in shape, with a domed ceiling and walls bedecked with shelves and cubicles where bathers can store their belongings. The floor is smooth tile, and the far wall sports an arched entryway into the baths themselves. There’s a young man sitting on a stool beside it, munching on an apple as he watches us enter.

“Morning ladies,” he says, a chunk of apple pushing out his cheek. “Had a nice roll in the mud, did ya?”

“What’s a Tuesday morning without a little adventure?” I say.

I glance at Arcadia and she’s smiling. It takes me a moment to ponder why, but then I work out that he just said ‘ladies,’ in reference to us. As in, plural.

“You’ve got a while yet before the men’s hours. Just pick a shelf for your things and I’ll look after em,” he says.

“Ah, could we get our clothes laundered while we’re bathing?” Arcadia asks.

He nods, swallows his bite of apple. “Aye. Two dinars each.”

I’m reaching for my coin purse, but Arcadia beats me to the draw. She slips four dinars into the man’s palm, and cinches her purse shut tightly with her other hand. There’s a funny grin on her face when she does it, like she’s just stolen sweets from the larder, but when she sees my raised eyebrow she shakes her head a little. Perhaps she’s just having fun spending whatever coin she stole away with.

With that sorted, I turn around and pick a shelf for my things. Arcadia does the same, stepping up to the one next to me. But then she changes her mind and picks one farther to the right, sidestepping skittishly with a sheepish smile on her face and her eyes downcast. I chuckle, and she blushes.

My sword belt is the first thing to go. After stowing it I step out of my boots and slide them aside with a bare foot. While I’m unfastening my cloak, I peek over at what Arcadia is doing. She has her pack sitting on the shelf, and she’s contemplating opening it, chewing on her lip, her eyes shifting over to the young attendant. The bag isn’t anything fancy, just a better made version of a legionnaire’s marching pack, but her anxious glance makes me wonder what she has in there.

She thinks better of it, pushes the pack to the back of the shelf and begins to disrobe. Which seems like a good time to look away, and finish doing so myself. One by one I drop my garments in a pile for the attendant so he can take them to be washed, and I store all my other things on the shelf.

“A-Ah, are you ready to go in?” asks Arcadia, her voice shaky.

“Yes, just about,” I say, as I’m pulling my tunic over my head.

I toss it on my pile of my dirty clothing, turn to meet her gaze, and find her wearing nothing but the rosy glow on her cheeks. My eyes reflexively scan down for a moment before I remember my modesty, but a even quick glance shows me lovely things. Breasts larger than Eceans tend to like, but I’m no Ecean. A tiny waist that flares out into hips made for breeding. Seeing it all makes my fingers ache to touch her. In the back of my mind I make a note to bow down in gratitude to Sigrun’s craftsmanship, if I ever see her again.

Arcadia’s mouth is slightly agape. Her eyes are wide, studying her way down my body, from my chest, to my arms, abdominals, hips, thighs, calves. Apparently she’s less self conscious about ogling than I am. Either that or she isn’t aware she’s doing it.

I have to admit, I’m surprised she’s looking at my body the way she is. Surprised, and pleased. Not so much that she’s attracted to women, I sort of expected that. More that she’s attracted to tall, muscular, brown-skinned women.

“Breathtaking, I know,” I say, with a smirk. “Shall I do a turn?”

A spluttering laugh comes out of her, and she looks away with that goofy smile of hers, hugging an arm across her breasts bashfully. I try not to gaze at the way they squish together under her slender forearm, and I’m mostly successful.

The young attendant, who’s been watching this whole exchange as though it were staged for his personal entertainment, chooses this moment to crunch loudly into his apple. “Can I come with you ladies on your next adventure?” he asks. “Just to watch.”

If you held a twig up to Arcadia’s cheek just then, it would burst into flames. “I’m going in now!” she blurts out. Then she pivots on her heel and marches into the baths, her eyes fixed straight ahead. I follow her, but first I stop directly in front of the attendant, fold my arms and glare straight down at him.

“That wasn’t funny,” I say.

It’s amusing to watch his peril dawn on him. Some of the color in his face drains out, as his eyes slowly grow wide. “Uhm. Sorry miss.”

“Mind your manners next time. You never know when a lady might knock your teeth out.”

He swallows his apple, lets out a nervous laugh. “I will miss. Surely.”

The main bathing hall features a long, rectangular pool bracketed by rows of white concrete columns. Between the tops of the columns are graceful arches, three skylights shining down on the crystal-blue water below. Small groups of women are gathered here and there, bathing and chatting, a few glancing our way when we enter before returning to their conversations.

The mosaic floor is cool beneath my bare feet as I walk alongside the pool, a pace or two behind Arcadia, who is still walking a bit briskly. She glances around at the women, chewing her lower lip, though her gaze doesn't linger on any of them like it did with me. I imagine she must feel like she doesn’t belong here. But while I search for the right words to relax her, I’m also trying not to glance at her heart-shaped behind as she walks. Not really succeeding in either case, but trying.

“Why don’t we find the caldarium?” I suggest. “Hot water, more privacy?”

“Great idea, yes,” says Arcadia.

Finding it proves simple. There’s an arched doorway at the far end of this chamber that leads to a hall and a short staircase. The stairs lead us up to a square room with tiled floors like the main chamber below. This bath is much smaller, a circular basin of marble sunk into the floor, big enough to seat five or six people comfortably. Tendrils of steam rise from the clear surface of the water, and since it’s completely closed off from the outside to retain its heat, the room is lit by a pair of torches in sconces on either side of the bath.

“Looks like we have it to ourselves,” I say, as I extend a toe and dip it in. The lightest touch of it sends a ripple of relaxation through me, encouraging me to step in and immerse myself.

“Is it too hot?” Arcadia asks, leaning in over the steamy water. She looks down at it the way a curious cat would inspect a tempting cauldron of soup.

I shake my head, a big smile on my face as I ease myself down into a seat against the edge of the tub. “It’s perfection,” I say, before draping my arms over the ledge.

The instant Arcadia’s foot dips into the water, her eyes close midway and she lets out a quiet, raspy moan. Her body lowers in slowly and steadily, as if the heat were melting her. Her breasts float for a brief moment before her shoulders submerge, then the water reaches up to her nose as her eyes close all the way. The only visible parts of her now are her eyes, the bridge of her nose and the tops of her ears. A few bubbles float to the surface as she sighs happily just below it. The cuteness of it gives me a fizzy feeling in my chest.

I lay my head back, close my eyes, and enjoy a few moments of blissful relaxation. The only sound in the room comes from the faint flickering of the torches. My mind wanders back to our little jaunt last night, replaying it. It’s been a while since I’ve done much hiking or climbing. I enjoyed it. Standing watch over someone can be tedious work, it was nice to get out and go somewhere. Do something. I get the feeling this is going to be the new norm for us, and it’s a pleasant feeling indeed.

After a short while, Arcadia's head lifts up above the water enough that she can speak. "It doesn't feel real. I feel like I'm going to wake up any moment."

My eyes open a sliver, and I grin at her. “I didn’t know you dreamed of me that often.”

Arcadia laughs, and the beauty of that sound enriches this whole experience. "Well you look a bit different in this one," she says.

“Do I?” I say. “Funny, you do too. Can’t quite put my finger on the difference though. Did you change your hair?”

She laughs again, but then looks down at the water’s surface with a sad smile. A few moments pass in silence.

"Is it because I'm smiling?" she asks.

Something in my gut wrenches, but for once I welcome the sensation. I reach out and find her hand under the water, taking it in mine and squeezing it. “I couldn’t count the hours I spent wondering what happened to you. But I’m happy you finally told me. Showed me.”

Arcadia's eyes clench shut for a few moments when I take her hand. She inhales slowly through her nose, then lets it out shakily. "I-I'm sorry. When I realized what was happening, what I was, I tried to find a solution. It was all I could think about. That, or--"

She pauses for a few moments, taking another breath, gripping my hand tighter. “I couldn’t tell my parents. Especially mother. You know how she is.”

“But you could tell me,” I say.

I realize I’ve slid a little closer to her, and she hasn’t shied away. Our eyes meet, and when they do I feel the hairs on the nape of my neck stand up. Her eyes seem so much more soulful now, or is it just that her face is smaller, softer, lovelier. There’s something forlorn about the way she looks at me, something vulnerable. It pulls me closer. My wet fingertips slide along the smooth skin of her arm and her breasts heave outward from an excited breath, but I barely glance at them. I can’t look away from those eyes. I feel like we’re falling under a spell, but is it her spell, or mine? Do I care?

I close in. Our bodies touch. Our breath intermingles.

And then raucous laughter echoes down the hallway.

“Can you believe he had the nerve to say such a thing?” says a voice that is obnoxiously loud, even at this distance. “The cad! I have half a mind to tell my husband about the entire ordeal.”

“Knowing him, he’ll get his sword out and split Marcus right down the middle,” says another voice. Both of which approach us rapidly.

The spell is broken, but there’s no time to fret about it. Arcadia and I slide apart and return to our original seats, and do our best to look natural, as two women round the corner into the caldarium. The one on the left is olive-skinned and chubby, with a mane of glossy black hair. Her companion is a reedy little thing with lank ginger hair and a dusting of freckles. They appear to be as surprised to see us as we are to see them.

“Oh, we didn’t mean to intrude!” says the dark haired one.

“It’s no trouble,” says Arcadia. “We were just discussing plans for our journey.”

I glance over, noting the neutral smile on Arcadia’s face. Ah, yes. The politician smile. It looks pleasant, but in actuality it’s a stone wall with turrets and arrow loops. I wish I had defenses like that. All I can hope for is not to have words ‘Fuck off!’ written all over my face. Because it’s the only thing I feel like saying at the moment.

And so our bath is joined. I introduce myself, as do Arcadia and the two newcomers. The chubby one is Belina Magnotto. The skinny one is her handmaiden, Cadie. They were just speaking about the unsolicited advances of Belina’s dreadful brother-in-law, Marcus. Her husband is a Praefecti, you see, no common soldier, and his dog of a brother should have more sense than to say such things to a married woman. But then Cadie heard from one of the kitchen maids that he’s been making lewd advances at them as well, and now the whole thing is just so scandalous that poor Belina can scarcely carry herself with dignity in the forum anymore.

I recline, let my head loll back against the rim of the bath. Arcadia is talking to them, but I’ve lost track of the conversation. In a few moments it’s a merciful blur. Meanwhile, in my mind, Arcadia and I are riding through green fields on the back of a white stallion. The sun is high overhead when we stop and stretch out on the grass, kissing, touching, our arms and legs entwined. Then we make love to each other, all day and into the night, with only the gods as witnesses…

“But where are my manners!” says Belina, loud enough to give me a jolt. Good thing she did, I think my eyes were glazed over. “You said you were planning an outing, miss Arcadia?”

Arcadia smiles and nods. “Yes. We’ll be booking passage on a ship to Demeus today.”

Belina Magnotto puts on a smile so wistful that I wonder if she’s mocking us. “Demeus,” she says, her voice airy. “Do enjoy it, dear. It’s been far too long since I treated myself to a holiday there.”

“We aren’t going on holiday, unfortunately. I have business at the Librarium Alcyoneum,” says Arcadia.

“Ohho,” says Belina, with a raised eyebrow. “Interesting! I wouldn’t have taken you for a scholar. If you don’t mind such a question, may I ask what it is you study?”

Arcadia smiles, and there’s something of her normal demeanor in it. The glimmer in her green eyes gives it away. Those eyes meet mine for a moment, and perhaps the reminder that I’m sitting right next to her gives her courage.

“Magic,” she says.

Belina and Cadie smirk at the same time, look at each other, then back at Arcadia. Cadie puts a hand over her mouth to stifle a chittering laugh.

“Beg pardon, miss Arcadia,” Cadie says, still smirking a bit. “But you seem so intelligent. You converse like a proper educated lady, at the least. Why waste your time on parlor tricks and nonsense?”

Arcadia has that childlike, too-big grin on her face now. She gazes down at the surface of the water, tracing the pad of her index finger in random swirls around it, leaving a trail of tiny ripples in its wake. “I understand. It’s natural not to believe in it. Maybe you ladies would like a small demonstration?”

“By all means!” says Belina. Her smile is polite enough, but I can’t help but hear a note of sarcasm in her tone.

Arcadia nods, stands up and wades into the center of the bath. The torchlight plays over the water running down her beautiful body, making it glisten. She closes her eyes, hunches over and begins to sway her hands left and right, gliding them along the surface of the water. And she speaks to it. It reminds me of the way Sigrun was muttering to the features of my face, but Arcadia’s incantation sounds different somehow. Softer syllables, fluid tones. As if water speaks a different language than flesh.

And the water listens. It begins to slither around her fingertips in unnatural ways. Arcadia brings her hands inward, gathering the water toward herself. It surges, twists around her, forming into a rippling sphere with Arcadia standing at the center. I glance down at my body, gasp when I see that I’m bone dry. There isn’t one rivulet of water left on me at all. Not even in my hair. I look over at Belina and Cadie, find them similarly pie-eyed and open mouthed in astonishment.

Wisps of Arcadia’s hair undulate about her head. Her eyes reopen. A smile slowly spreads across her face, and at the same time the great ball of water begins to rise up into the air above the center of the bath until it’s well over our heads. I’m craning my neck to look up at her, watching her swim around inside it in slow loops, her naked body twisting and turning with the grace of a water nymph.

My breath stalls out. My skin tingles all over. I feel my heart seem to freeze, then all of a sudden it’s pounding. Arcadia is in the middle of an upward arc, I’m looking up at her back from below, then she continues the curve into its descent and for a moment she’s gazing down into my eyes. I’ve never seen this smile on her face before. It’s not the one I remember. It’s something otherworldly. Divine. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

Arcadia swirls back into the center of her sphere, reorients her body to an upright position. As she does so, it slowly descends into the tub again, and when her feet touch down the water relaxes, spreads out, the laws of nature taking hold once again. Some of the water splashes out of the bath in a ring when it settles back to its proper place. Arcadia stands precisely where she started, eyes closed, a serene smile on her face.

I haven’t had many experiences in my life that I’d describe as ‘religious.’ This is one of them. How else could name it? It’s one thing to know magic is real, and another to see it, even if I’ve already seen it before. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to the impossible beauty of such a thing.

Across from me, Belina is making firm eye contact with Arcadia. Her back is flat against the edge of the tub, mouth still slack, but there’s something like desire in her eyes. Next to her, Cadie clutches her arms to her chest. I notice her hands trembling, nails scraping against her skinny forearms. Her eyes are averted, but they keep glancing at the exit.

“By the gods,” says Belina, her voice barely above a whisper.

Arcadia smiles, shakes her head. “It wasn’t that good. Others can do finer things with the Lore of Water.”

“Nonsense!” Belina’s brows draw in. “That was a performance fit for Emperors! I’ve never seen anything half as magnificent in my life!”

Her words bring a blush back to Arcadia’s face. A grin I’m more familiar with returns, the bashful one, as she walks a pace or two backwards and eases into a seat. Belina continues to stare at her intensely, chewing on her plump lower lip. The look on her face makes my skin prickle. Something isn’t right.

“Such a gift you have, my Arcadia. It must be shared!” she says.

Arcadia blinks, cants her head to the side slightly. “Shared? What do you mean?”

Belina’s grin is all teeth. “I mean I’m having a little soiree this evening with a few trusted friends. Patricians all, even a few Senators. And I do believe my good friend Menellus is attending as well, a First Spear Centurion in the eighth!”

“You want me to… Perform?” asks Arcadia.

Belina lets out that raucous laugh of hers. “Perform indeed. It’s such an inadequate word for what I witnessed just now. Perhaps I should instead ask, ‘Would you deign to accept my invitation, Arcadia the Sorceress, and let us marvel at the wonders of magic?’”

My gut twists hard. I shouldn’t have to explain to Arcadia how terrible an idea this is. But at the same time I can’t just sit here and glare at her. I don’t know magic, I can’t hurl the words into her mind. And I can’t speak them either. It would make Belina suspicious. I’m hoping the expression on my face is one of mild curiosity, as if I don’t know what she’s going to say. I mean, I hope I know.

Arcadia’s eyes narrow, her brow lowers. She lifts her gaze to the ceiling for a moment, runs a fingertip back and forth across her lower lip. A smile begins to form on her lips, but she bites down on it.

“All eyes will be upon you, my dear,” Belina says. “I promise you that.”

So much for hiding it. The smile comes forth, in full force. “I accept,” says Arcadia.

Fuck.