23 Sleep (1/2)

”She will,” Mattias agrees. ”But she will learn better after she has been bathed, and fed, and slept.”

”Let them take care of her,” Silver Eyes says. ”We have much to discuss, and she needs to be cared for.”

I like him. He is not threatened by me. None of them are, probably, but some seem to take my threats more personally than others. I don't know whether it is better to be taken seriously and make a warrior angry, or be laughed at.

It doesn't matter. Mattias and Elias are taking me away from the warriors. They lead me through the sheriff's rooms to a bathing chamber that must have once belonged to the sheriff, and they run a bath without hardly a word to me, cleaning themselves off with a little soap and water first to stop the water from being contaminated with the blood of their foes.

In the end, they strip down to the waist, tying the arms of their robes around their hips, exposing the muscular plane of abdomen and torso. I try not to look, but I can't help it. Whatever implant they have does not affect the masculinity of their bodies. They are sculpted, planes of muscle elegantly flowing from one into the other, abdominals rippling like the washboard I used to use in the river, their chests so broad and so powerful, utterly hairless and smooth.

It's not lust I feel right now. I am too tired, too disturbed for that. Right now, it's awe and appreciation at just how handsome they are. Two perfect works of art drawing a bath for me, the murderess.

That is what I am now. I have taken life. I will never be able to take that back. It will stain whichever part of my soul used to be clear. But I will not regret it, and I will never apologize for it.

”Get in,” Mattias says when the bath is ready.

I am surprised by their lack of comment as to the events of the day.

”Are you angry at me?”

Mattias and Elias exchange looks.

”Angry? No,” Mattias says. ”Worried, yes.”