Nheera did not return to her chambers in any hurry.
The bloodstained gown was shed off hastily, peeled from her body as though the sight of it offended her. She refused to allow the servants to touch it, unfastening each clasp herself before letting the ruined silk fall in a lifeless pool at her feet. With a flick of her fingers, she dismissed the servants entirely. They bowed low as they retreated, eyes fixed firmly on the floor, fear clinging to them like a second skin.
She bathed in absolute silence.
The water steamed as it filled the copper basin, perfumed oils blooming across the surface, yet even that could not immediately mask the metallic tang of blood. She scrubbed until her skin burned faintly, pale flesh reddening beneath her touch, until the scent was truly gone.
When she finally rose from the bath, droplets traced slow paths down immaculate skin, untouched once more, unmarred by evidence of what she had done.
