Asmoday studied Keshiema for a moment. She sat in the corner, poking at her hand. Then she did the most curious thing: She stared at Eurynome with a look of horror before returning her attention to said hand. He quickly pieced together the situation. “You there,” Asmoday called to a female guard. “Take her to a vacant room to clean up. And have a new uniform brought to her. Not formalwear. An ATG will do fine. Treat her like honorary nobility.”

  “Yes, your highness.” The guard saluted before promptly attending to Keshiema. As she approached the half-demon, her heart sank for the young warrior. Debris littered her tangled hair, and unshed tears sat at the edges of her large blue eyes. As she got closer, she noticed streaks of silver within her electric-blue hair. “Excuse me, my lady,” She held her fist to her heart, standing at attention as she addressed Keshiema.

  “Huh?” Keshiema looked up at the soldier who had dark skin, ebony hair, and eyes as black as onyx. Her pointed ears had three small gold hoops on the left and two on the right, and the tips of her claws were painted red. Her Kavara armor hugged her toned arms, showing she took great care to maintain her fitness, as was expected of any warrior guarding royalty. “Oh…um…at ease?”

  The guard lowered her fist but did not relax her posture. “I am to take you to a guest room, my lady. If you would please follow me.”

  Looking around for confirmation, Keshiema made eye contact with Asmoday, who smiled and waved her away. “Ok, that’s fine by me. But, could I ask for your name?” She got up and followed the guard.

  “Avery, my lady.” She answered with a subtle bow.

  “Avery…I’m Keshiema. There isn’t a need for formalities.”

  “Thank you, Keshiema.” Avery’s tone softened slightly.

  The windows on her left let in the soft light of a full moon, while the sconces on the right flickered, their warm glow almost dancing to the rhythmic hum of the crystals that powered them. “So,” she tried to fill the silence as they walked. “That was a bit crazy, earlier, yeah?”

  “If you feel unsafe, I can assure you it was a very rare occurrence.” Avery quickly reassured her.

  “Oh, uh, yeah, no, I’m sure its not every day a bunch of rogue humans infiltrate the Great Temple.” Keshiema rambled, unsure what to say. She turned coral and tried to hide her face with her hair, only to get poked in the face by a piece of splintered wood. “ God damnit!” she shouted, turning red. The guard chuckled, but quickly regained her composure. “No, you can laugh, this whole week’s been one shit-show after another. I’m so done!” She huffed.

  “I’m sorry, my lady. I am sure, moving forward, your time here will be much less chaotic.” She stopped in front of a door and handed Keshiema a key. “For now, a shower is probably the best thing I can offer you.”

  “Thank the stars! And thank you, Avery!” she looked at her rat’s nest of a mane.

  “I will be stationed here until my shift ends, so please take as much time as you need. It beats standing guard outside.” Avery smiled widely and urged her to go inside.

  Keshiema looked around the room, finding it to be identical to the guest room she woke up in earlier. Simple yet solid wood furniture, a large bed with two end tables, a well-stuffed armchair, and a small desk. A table lamp on each bedside table, as well as the desk, and a floor lamp behind the chair. The hum of an Impure Crystal filled the room when she turned on one of the lights. Only one thing stood out: a brand-new ATG sat neatly folded on the foot of the bed.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  With her curiosity sated, she moved to the washroom. Keshiema’s hand still felt like it was on fire. The brief conversation with Avery had been a nice distraction, but she still could not shake the foreboding that washed over her. Turning on the cold water at the sink, she let it run over her hand while concentrating her aura. It immediately took the edge off, and after a few minutes, the burning faded completely.

  An ornate basket of toiletries sat on the counter. Gold filigree decorated the glass bottles of shampoo and conditioner; she had heard some of the girls from noble households talking about it several times. A variety of combs and hairbrushes, each made from Taveran Obsidian Oak. Luxury bar soaps, scrubs, and bodywashes, each made from difficult-to-obtain ingredients and boasting unique enchantments. Her head spun trying to take in the options. Even the basket was more valuable than anything she owned. She set it on the ground next to the shower, deciding to choose her options when she got to the point of needing them.

  She turned the water on cold first, using the shower wand to wash away the dried blood from her hair. Replacing the wand, she stepped into the icy stream and quickly scrubbed her face and hands before twisting the knob to the hottest setting. The impure crystals in the wall hummed softly as they heated the water. She kept herself busy, using mounds of conditioner to slowly work the splintered wood out of her hair. Once she had scrubbed, and washed, and conditioned and combed too many times to count, she sat on the floor of the shower and let the scorching water wash over her.

  No longer consumed by busywork, her thoughts raced. She told herself it had to be in her head, but convincing herself was not so easy. The most likely answer was that the wood from the exploding door had ripped Eurynome's glove, but then how was she alive? There was no possibility she had touched a Reaper's skin and walked away with only a burning hand. Maybe the material, old and worn, had ripped during the commotion - after she took his hand – and the odd burning sensation was just a wild coincidence.

  As she dressed, she made doubly sure to tightly fasten the gloves of her new uniform.

  She found a different soldier guarding the door by the time she finally exited the guest room. "My Lady,” I am to show you to the training room." His slightly rough voice sounded vaguely familiar, but his mask and hooded cloak hid most of his features, leaving her to wonder what kind of demon he might be.

  Keshiema let the slender guard lead the way. "So, do you know what kind of training I'll have?" she asked the mysterious soldier after a few corridors' worth of silence.

  "I'm sure it will be strenuous, maybe even painful. More challenging than the general training you've been doing." he was stiff, obviously uncomfortable around her.

  "So, you don't know." She rolled her eyes at his non-answer. 'Damn, his voice sounds so familiar.' Keshiema thought to herself. "Hey, what's your name? I feel like I know you."

  Stopping mid-step, the soldier faced her. "You do?" He looked down at her, curiosity filling his dark eyes. "Where would you have met a Throne Room Guard before today?"

  His words rang true enough. Throne Room Guards stayed close to the princes. Chosen for their unsurpassed loyalty, even when not on duty, they usually never wandered too far. But she could not shake the feeling she knew him. 'I know that's not right.' Keshiema thought in silence as they continued walking. 'I know, but how am I going to prove it?' Grinning mischievously, she reached up for his mask.

  Whipping around, he seized her wrist with a firm, yet gentle grip. "You know better than that."

  "I'm going to find out who you are." She huffed.

  "Perhaps," He growled, releasing her arm, "but it will be on my terms, not yours." He continued down the hallway.

  Letting her eyes fall to the floor, Keshiema took in the puzzle-like pattern of the sparkling gray flagstone tiles. "Who’s training me?"

  The guard sighed, trying to calm himself before answering. "Merihim."

  Her stomach churned just thinking about him. Letting the hypnotic buzzing of the Impure Crystals drown out her thoughts, she followed in silence. When the guard finally stopped, she bumped into him. He cleared his throat as she covered her face with her peach-colored hair. "You may enter when you're ready." He gestured to a door that looked the same as every other. She gave him a short nod and reached for the doorknob as her colors shifted back.