Mermaid Tear (The Fated #2)

19 | Rumors

Iliana struggled through two new nightmares, and one-hundred various exercises before the tower door next opened.

Unlike the previous visits, the guards ignored Del's cell in favor of her own. Fear mixed with uncertainty as energy flooded her exhausted body. 

Aria ordered her from the cell and out of the room. Iliana's muscles burned, and she found herself grateful for the nightmares. If she hadn't resorted to exhausting herself in order to sleep, her stiff body might have made walking difficult. As it was, she managed to stumble up the stairs without tripping.

The midday sun burned.

Sudden light burnt Iliana's eyes, sending her vision blurry. She attempted to blink away the tears, but a few escaped down her cheeks. If they noticed, her guards said nothing. Iliana wasn't sure to be grateful or annoyed by their indifference as they urged her into a grueling pace through courtyards and halls.

It was a familiar path. The bathhouse.

Corinna waited inside. Taking Iliana's murmured greeting as silent permission, the maid escorted her though a near-identical process of disrobing and bathing. The sole difference laid in when Corinna's soft cloth reached the inside of Iliana's wrist.

So many things had happened during her stay in the dark that the ache of her bloodied skin had been forgotten. Now, however, the well-lit bath and the sudden sting of a newly opened wound made it impossible to ignore. Old blood stained the water pink. Something odd settled heavily in her chest as she studied the perfectly circular wound.

Becoming a siren had removed all of Iliana's old injuries.

Every mark of Kyril's abuse, her years on the streets, even the unlucky scrapes of a life at sea had been washed away. It had created a blank slate that, if everything had gone right, would've remained pristine in her new life.

Her free fingers crept up to the mark across her brow from when she'd fallen while training with Lykos. Her eyes never left the bite.

It would become her second scar

When Iliana had first noticed the changes to her skin, she'd hated them. It'd felt like a part of her was being washed away. Now, however, she almost wished for it. The desire stirred her heart and heated her veins. Even if it meant dying again, she was near certain she'd be willing to risk it.

Scars, burns, calluses; they were all stories written on flesh. You could read a lot about a person's life from the state of their skin. Their wealth, their experiences, and sometimes even their loves, they were all there.

What version of herself would emerge from these new marks? When Iliana next looked into a mirror, would she see herself? Or would she see yet another stranger?

The idea hung in her mind, fogging her thoughts. It refused to budge as the bath was finished and Corinna nudged her into the changing room. There, she pulled out a pastel pot. Iliana felt numb as the maid spread a floral, clear gel on the oozing wound. The blood slowed, then stopped. The mess was wiped away and instead of a bandage, Corinna secured a ribbon over the bite mark.

Iliana stared at the silk and lace, thoughts latching onto the pristine white fabric. Something about it scraped at her insides. How long would the color remain clean?

As Corinna pulled out each piece of a dark, layered navy-blue dress, Aria cleared her throat. Iliana's attention flicked up from her wrist. The guard was frowning and studying her with a furrowed brow. Whatever thoughts traveled through Aria's mind in that moment remained a mystery, however, as the woman sighed and crossed her arms.