The sun was rising before we finally returned to bed, and now it's past noon as my eyes drift open again. His back is to me, but I can tell by the steady rise and fall of his breathing that he's still asleep. Gods do sleep then, huh? Or maybe he’s just forced to because of the human body. A sound on the floor catches my attention and I peer out from the bed curtains.

Its Shay, setting out our meal. As usual, he doesn't seem pleased, but his face isn't in its characteristic scowl. Not yet, at least. He hasn't spotted me spying. I retreat behind the curtain again. Where's Nora? Hopefully she has my clothes somewhere. I can only go around wearing Sheo's robe for so long. Or Quin's… do they have different clothes?

I feel him shift behind me and I look over my shoulder at him. He's tossed onto his back, arm flung over his head. I hadn't noticed before, but his eyelashes are very dark. He's also shivering, even though I thought it was quite warm under the blankets. Maybe he has a fever.

Come to think of it, he seemed fine for a while last night. Could be some kind of illness that comes and goes? I add it to my growing list of questions.

After what seems like an hour, Shay finally leaves and I slide out of bed. There's place settings for two on the table by the window, with an abundance of fruit, bread, and what smells like hot stew. It's a pity to let it go cold, but I don't want to wake him. Maybe I should go ahead and eat…

I decide on just a roll and some tea, and take the opportunity to explore the room a bit. Now that I think about it, the odd contrast of new and old makes complete sense. Sheo has lived here for ages, and Quin at most twenty years. This collection of things must have slowly accumulated from the lives of dozens of vessels.

A familiar item catches my eye as I wander past the changing screen. One of my dresses is laid out neatly over a chair, accompanying ornaments set carefully in a dish on the table beside it. So Nora did bring my clothes. The maid is nowhere to be seen to help me on with them, though. I definitely don’t want to ask Sheo to lace me up, it was bad enough that Quin had to free me last night.

Continuing my exploration, I see there's a writing desk with a thick journal laying open to a blank page. The temptation to flip through it is nearly too much, but I can almost feel Shay glaring at me for even thinking of it. I quickly turn away before I can do anything I’ll regret, though now the curiosity is eating at me. If it's private, why's it laying out like that?

Instead of dwelling on the journal, just like with so many mysteries the past twenty four hours I shove the topic to the back of my mind by hastily focusing on something else. The door to the washroom is ajar, as it was last night, and this time I go to take a peek inside. At this point, I'm not really sure whether to expect luxury or something very outdated and in need of replacement, because there doesn't seem to be anything in between around here. They must only upgrade things when they cease to function entirely.

But it seems the tub is an exception. It looks ancient, yet in good shape, and it's built right into the stone of the tower. It's also huge, and set along the wall that shares the fireplace, presumably so that the residual heat keeps the water warm for longer. I have to wonder if they designed it specifically for Sheo, or if it was simply a coincidence that such an unlikely facility would exist in the exact location that the god of water would take up residence. Whatever the case, I don't envy the servants having to fill it.

When I turn around to take a look at the upper part of the room, it turns out someone's standing behind me. I barely stifle a yelp as I stumble back and lose my footing over the threshold. He catches my arm just before I fall.

"Good morning," Sheo chuckles as he steadies me by the shoulders. "Fancy a bath?"

I really do, I love baths, but it doesn't seem very practical here. All I can picture is that frail girl hauling bucket after bucket to the top of this tower, and I'm not sure I'm willing to be that harsh of a mistress. A regular wash basin is more than sufficient, and a fraction of the work.

While I mull this over, Sheo brushes past me, walks over to the tub, and turns some kind of valve. Immediately water appears from nowhere and starts to fill the basin.

… What?

Wait, is this…

"It's not me," he turns back to me and snickers at my shocked face. "It's rainwater. Collected from the tower roof." He points upward, and then to the far side of the room. "It gathers in a reservoir in that wall, and naturally it flows out when you open it a little with the valve. Humans can be inventive when they put their minds to it."

"That's… all rain?" It rains a lot in this region, more than anywhere else in the land, but that tub is like a small pool.

"Blessed be Ceili," he mutters in mock reverence as he walks past me again into the bedroom. It's a common phrase, even to those who don't believe in the gods. Ceili is the goddess of weather, and people constantly bless her for the abundant rain that allows the kingdom to flourish as it has, but it suddenly occurs to me that if Sheo is real, she must exist too, and he probably knows her personally. Perhaps more than just knows.

In myth, Sheo and Ceili had many wild affairs together, much to the rage of his brother and her husband, Ion.

"Do other gods ever come here?" I ask as we both make our way to the table for luncheon. I'm not particularly concerned whether that legend is false or fact, but I do wonder if he might have a social life after all.

"Hm? No… not often."

He doesn't elaborate, so I move on to another topic. "It's a nice day today. I think I'd like to go for a walk… though I’m afraid I’d never find my way to the garden from here..." Maybe he'll take the bait, or maybe-

"I'm sure Nora would be happy to guide you."

Or maybe not. It points toward my guess that he's the one who avoids going out, not Quin. What I can't work out is why.

"I'm sure she has other duties to attend to," I counter over the rim of my wine glass. "If you were to give me directions, I could find it on my own."

He leans his chin in his hand with an unimpressed smile. "When you want to ask something, just ask."

Well, I should have known I'd never fool him. Even so, I try to act natural.

"Haven't I?"

I want to use the food as an excuse to look elsewhere, but his bowl of steaming stew lays untouched in front of him, and thus I'm unable to even pick up my spoon to begin. Maybe he doesn't bother with human customs, but he sure knows how to manipulate those who do. I look awkwardly back at him.

"Oh you have," he runs a finger around the rim of his glass, "and what you really want to know is whether I've been to the garden before to know how to get there, and why I won't go with you. And here I thought you were straightforward. Royalty will suit you well."

He doesn't say it maliciously, but I know it's not meant as a compliment. And he deliberately hasn't answered either question. Does he expect me to ask them now? I won't. If he's going to vex me on purpose, why should I be straightforward?

Thankfully, he's finally started eating, so I can easily abandon the subject and focus on my food. In a way I’m glad I’m not still blurting things out to him, but this is an unpleasant turn of mood between us. Not that it appears to bother him at all. As usual, I’m the only one who’s ruffled.

We're halfway through our meal when Nora appears. She looks more fretful than ever, and silently slinks past us to the washroom. The sound of running water is replaced with a bucket being filled, and the crackle of droplets hitting flame as she hooks it over the fire. Shay enters a moment later, apparently to take over the task, as Nora then goes to collect my nightgown before disappearing again.

Unsurprisingly, Sheo finishes eating before me, and after emptying his cup he pushes back his chair and stands. "The bath is hot, so I'll be heading in," he announces, tossing napkin to table.

The bath wasn't for me?!

"Oh…" I look up from my stew, "Okay…"

Maybe it will still be warm when he's done. I'm beginning to change my mind about him being nicer than Quin. Neither of them are gentlemanly at all. Though I'm not sure what I expected from a recluse prince and a god whose reputation isn't much different from a wild animal's.

"You're welcome to join me when you've finished with that," he adds with a wink and saunters away.

At this I accidentally tip the spoon that's halfway to my mouth, and all of its contents fall straight into my lap. Thankfully there's a napkin there, but I hear him chuckle again as he vanishes into the washroom. My cheeks heat up yet again. How dare he flirt with me in the middle of the day, when last night he put me at arms length!

There's barely time to be thankful that he didn't see me blush this time, because Shay definitely did. I hadn't noticed him standing a few feet away. His expression is a mix of disgust and the usual loathing, but he manages to say nothing and continues about his duties as though I'm not there. Somehow this makes him even more intimidating.

With my meal finished, Sheo still in the bath, and Shay lurking about, I'm not sure what to do with myself. I can't snoop around with those hateful eyes on me, I don't have my own things yet, and if I take my walk in the garden now, I'll definitely have a cold bath by the time I return. I don’t even know where the servant bell is, and I’m certainly not going to ask Shay how I’m meant to summon his sister to wait on me. Instead, I quite literally wait on her.

Fifteen unbearable minutes pass before she finally walks through the door, hauling a laundry basket nearly as big as she is. Shay quickly takes it from her, and she scurries over to me with that apologetic look I’m beginning to think is her natural expression.

"Milady, the bath is ready, would you like to--Oh!"

Her face goes scarlet the moment she looks through the open washroom door - the one I’ve carefully angled myself away from - and I know instantly what she's seen. From that point on, she's completely flustered.

"Ah… m-milady… I… would you like… may I show your… your… may I show you… your ch-ch-chamber?"

This girl might have made me feel more confident in my own composure as a lady, if it wasn't so painful to watch her stumble and stutter over a mere glimpse of a naked man.

“Thank you, Nora,” I accept out of pity, even though Sheo’s out of the bath now and I’m eager to start my own. "I would like that very much."