The guest suite looks almost exactly the same as Alex’s suite, except with less personality.

The first room holds similar comfortable seats and scenic tapestries, but lacks his overcrowded bookshelves or well-used desk, rendering it more of a study than a sitting room. The second room, adjoined to the first, is dominated by a four-poster bed with overstuffed pillows and a massive painting of the Silverwood family crest hanging over the headboard.¹Thoughts on what is in Alex’s bedroom instead? I’m waffling between a giant painting of his family and a giant painting of himself. Given his big head, I’m leaning towards the latter.

But at least I can console myself with the knowledge that it’s clearly for “fancy guests,” since there are activated lighting stones in the candle holders and a heating stone in the fireplace.

“Septimus and Quintus will take the first shift, so call them if you need anything,” Alex says, once he’s given me a ‘tour’ of the rooms—that is, opened some doors and waved vaguely.

I presume Septimus and Quintus are the guards who were already on both sides of the suite entrance when we arrived, because Magnus works fast. I sort of want to ask what would happen if I call on them and say I’m taking a walk around the castle.

I don't ask, of course. As they say, ignorance is bliss. I prefer pretending I'm a reluctant guest and not an unwilling prisoner.

There’s something more urgent to ask Alex anyway.

"So they can bring me water right? For a bath?” I say, plucking at the hem of my shift. After the night spent on the floor, it’s gone from colorless beige to straight-up brown. And the less that’s said about how I smell right now, the better. At least Alex has been raised well enough to not make any mention of how I-slash-his-girlfriend smell during our talk.²I just want to state, for the record, that I usually don’t have a problem with BO. It’s only because I walked and ran so much yesterday. And again, and I’ll never stop saying it, I did save the Keep.

Alex frowns. “Why would they have to bring you water?”

He pauses, then wrinkles his nose. “Don’t tell me the future thinks that badly of our living standards. We might not have whatever magical advances the future does, but you’re in the ancestral home of the wealthiest and most powerful noble house in Mediusterra. We at least have running water.”

They… do?³ You know what? Fair enough. After all, the Ancient Romans had running water, and Mediusterra was some bizarre cross mix between the Middle Ages and the Romans, if you hadn’t caught on by the names. It’s not very fancy engineering anyway. You just need enough money to build the aqueducts and enough pressure to pipe water into your castle. I hadn’t known they’d have running water from the books. But I’ll give Natter some slack on this one. He wasn’t exactly writing scenes of people going to the bathroom and taking baths.

He walks into the bedroom and turns right, towards the door that I honestly had just assumed was the closet, and opens it with a flourish.

On the other side is a bathroom remarkably like the ones I know.

I mean, there’s like, no shower, and no toilet. But there’s a tub hewn directly out of stone, with some faucet-like things on one end and several containers placed directly on its ledge. Against the side wall is a shelf with more things and a full-length mirror. Between the glass window, the lighting stones, and the mirror that catches all the light and doubles it back, the bathroom is the definition of bright and cheery.

Alex smirks at my expression. He leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms.

“Heating stone’s already in the tub. Iron’s on the shelf. Just activate it with a light tap, and turn the water on. Don't forget to drain the tub when done. I’ll get some maids to run up new clothes for you.”

I take a delighted step forward. Alex mock-bows and then turns.

“I’ll leave you to it. Don’t drown in here,” he says, with a wave backwards.

I know it’s childish, but whatever, Alex was being childish first—I stick my tongue out at his back.

The bath gets off to a bad start. Washing Aurelia's body with the ‘compound butter’ soaps⁴The soaps had been cloudy slick balls with minced-up herbs. Lathering up my body had felt a little slathering butter across a pig’s skin for roasting. is... awkward.

I mean, obviously Aurelia's gorgeous. By every objective metric, her body—with all its shapely curves and toned muscles—is a massive upgrade over my own.

It’s just not mine.

And while yesterday morning, I'd been in too much of a rush to pay attention while changing, today I'm really noticing that. All the little details are off: how long it takes to wash her hair; how far I have to bend to wash my ankle and feet; how many small scars and calluses whose origins I don't know dot my skin.

Before, I would've said I had no particular attachment to my body. It was too short. Too soft and flabby.

But apparently, I do. Rather a lot.

So I avert my eyes, and scrub fast, and soon enough I'm able to submerge the entire naked body in the filled tub, and... that's much better.

The many little scrapes and bruises I’d collected throughout the past day sting as they hit the water. But even that feels nice.

With the tub’s heating stone on the far side of tent tub keeping the water at a toasty temperature, if I close my eyes and lean back, I can almost imagine I’m at some sort of hot spring resort.

When Natter had mentioned that the royal enchanters were the King’s greatest source of revenue, I’d rolled my eyes. Sure, enchanters create luxuries like the stones or waterproof fur cloaks or books with moving illustrations, but those aren’t actual necessities. How would they make more money than the druids, who can bless the land for good harvests and create healing potions, or the elementals, who can protect a whole village?

Now though, I know. Sure, being healthy and full is nice, but being comfortable is nicer. If I were a noble with money to burn, I’d spend it here too.⁵Although I guess it doesn’t matter in the end to the King. He doesn’t actually need to pick which mage to monetize, does he? Enchanters, druids, elementals, shapeshifters, seers…. the king's gotta catch them all!

Speaking of seers.

I lean my back against the stone back of the tub and close my eyes.

The tasks I need to accomplish are easy to list: Make sure my new ally — Mr. 'I betray even my allies if it serves me' Alex — trusts me, and also doesn't screw me over. Go (with permission) to the seer coven and gain clarity about this body-swapping business. Keep Alex’s family and the Keep and me safe from here on out.

Unfortunately, they're much harder to accomplish.

Like, what happens to everybody else in the original plot now? Surely the King and Queen (but most particularly the Queen) will try new shenanigans now that the attack failed? it’s probably good the Hannu aren't attacked and devastated by Alex's forces, but should the mages that Alex Prime freed just be left in servitude to the King? If Alex doesn't subjugate the Silverwoods' rival noble family, the Del Mar, whose side will they fall on, that of the Silverwoods or the royals? Or—oh my God, Livinia! I'd almost forgotten. Alex had rescued her from the slavers, what happens if he's not there?⁶ I think I’ve said this, but once again, Livinia Prime is the coolest. After Alex Prime freed her from the slavers, she became his right-hand strategist and diplomat (and also lover and eventual wife). Granted, Livinia was also his enabler, since she let him commit all those atrocities. Her decision to marry him at the end of the series knowing he was still way hung up on Aurelia was maybe also not a high point. But it makes sense for her character! Since she grew up in a convent, she didn’t have much exposure to men. It's clear she imprinted on Alex. In this essay I will— Would she get sold—?

Wait. No.

I inhale a deep lungful of the hot, steamy air.

It won't help to panic or to plan too much. I'm not the Count of Monte Cristo. I'm not going to be able to plan for every eventuality.

Step by step, Gemma. One step at a time.

I take in another deep breath, and submerge my whole head into the water.

The pressure builds slowly in my lungs. Radiates to my chest. Moves through all my extremities. I let it be the only thing that fills my mind, let it push at my knotted thoughts until they drift away from me like the tendrils of Aurelia’s copper hair. And then I break the surface with a gasp and a spray of water.

Keep it simple: Get to tomorrow. Go to the seer coven. Figure it out from there.

Who knows? Maybe the seer will be able to figure out everything —or even tell me that nothing can be figured out and I'm absolved of all blame— and this will no longer be my problem.

rdrift

I guess this marks the end of the first 'arc', as the battle and set-up is done? Yay! *fireworks* If you're (still) enjoying, please consider favoriting this, and leaving a rating or a review or saving NYFG to your reading list so more people can find this story. 

The next chapter will start us on figuring out the gameplan for Gemma, Alex... and maybe some other allies? :P 

I'll see you all on Thursday & Saturday!