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Shaking my head, I say, “The bath isn’t for me.”

He shoots me a confused look but doesn’t say anything else as I make our way through camp, only stopping once we reach the saddles’ tent.

I point to the ground next to the crackling campfire. “You can set it there, please.”

The soldiers guarding the saddles look up in surprise. “What’s that for?”

My helpers set the tray down with a shrug and then walk away. The guards turn to me and Keg for an explanation.

“It’s for the saddles. So they can have a proper bath, wash their clothes, their hair...” I say.

The guards shake their heads. “I don’t think so.”

“It’s a bath,” I argue. “They aren’t criminals. Their only wrongdoing was being caught by the Red Raids, and then by you. They’ve been cooped up in that small tent and given only rags and snow to wash with,” I go on, my tone unrelenting. “So you two are going to help me fill this thing with snow, let it melt by the fire, and then you’re going to make it so those saddles can bathe in peace.”

I don’t know who’s more stunned by my order—the guards, Keg, or myself.

The men just stare at me, but I don’t waver. I look at them steadily, not backing down.

Beside me, Keg leans down and scoops up a handful of snow before dumping it in the tub. “You heard the woman,” he says to them with a smirk. “Get on with it before I kick my foot in your arses. And one of you build up that fire, or this is gonna take all night to melt.”

Keg’s voice jerks them into action, and soon, all four of us are dumping snow into the tub, scoop after scoop. Keg dumps a few fire-charred rocks into it too, making steam hiss into the air and speeding up the melting process.

By the time it’s full, my hands are numb, gloves soaked through, but I’m pleased. I stuff my gloves into my coat pocket as the four of us look over our handiwork.

When movement catches my eye, I look over and find Polly and Rissa peeking out of their tent, watching me. I go straight over and dig into my pocket to pull out the soap, plopping the cubes in Rissa’s hand. “Enough for everyone to have a turn,” I say.

The girls just look down at the soap, look at the basin, the fire, the guards.

Polly’s lips thin. “If you expect us to fall down and kiss your feet, you’re stupider than you look.”

“I don’t expect anything,” I tell her honestly, because I don’t.

I don’t expect gratitude from them. I don’t even expect a truce. I just wanted to give them a tiny sliver of something, because none of this is their fault. None of this has been easy for them.

It’s the least I can do to help ease them, just a little bit. I’ve had freedom and comforts, as strange as it seems. They deserve some of that too, and this is what I can get for them.

“Enjoy your baths,” I say before I turn and leave.

Keg sidles up beside me as I walk back to my tent. “That was nice of you,” he says.

“You sound surprised.”

“This army is a bunch of gossips. I heard how those women turned you away.”

The tips of my ears burn. “Oh.” It was bad enough that those two guards witnessed it, but it’s much worse to know that it’s become army chatter.

“Some would say that they don’t deserve your kindness,” Keg points out.

I shake my head, watching the ground as we go. “Kindness shouldn’t have to be earned. It should be freely given.”

Keg laughs softly. “My ma used to say something like that,” he replies, looking over at me. “And you know what?”

“What?”

“She was a damn smart woman.”

Chapter 31


Tags: Raven Kennedy The Plated Prisoner Fantasy