16
“Am I doing something wrong, my Queen?”
I shook my head. “No, Beza. Just keep going.”
There’d been a time in my life when I’d looked forward to ceremonial baths – the endless quantities of oils that Beza poured on me and then scraped off, the way her fingers massaged between my muscles, slipping over every inch of skin.
If I were still the naive girl I’d been mere days ago, I’d be twisting and turning inside Beza’s embrace, whispering my foolish hopes into her unreal ears. But now, knowing all? Each bath was intolerable, and each touch burned like flame.
I pulled on the simple white silk dress I was supposed to sleep in somehow, and entered my bed. Either the zoomers or Joshan had straightened the sheets after my last encounter with Zaan – there was nothing that proved he’d ever be
