Fall into a romantic, magical fantasy with Zia Lathyrus, a young heroine with dreadful knowledge of her past life in a new world. From lonely office worker to aristocratic beauty, Zia is swept into keeping the world she once read in a novel safe fro...
This Story is categorized as a "why choose" romantic fantasy, with themes of sexual relationships, magic, and whimsical worlds. This story is inspired by isekais and has references to modern-day earth occasionally and Black femme experiences.
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Chapter Eleven: Viola Invitation
Despite the pleasant amenities of Bliss, Viola stepped into the Meander Spa with her full armor on. If Prince Faro hadn't ordered that she take this reprieve, she would be back home preparing for the next class of knights. She stepped past the attendant, who looked at her with fear. She doubted that any of her family would come this far to rob her of her armor, but she was wary of the possibility. This was why she hated the south. It was nothing but annoying nobles who never struggled in their lives. She set her armor in the cabinet and sealed her belongings away, placing the tip of her finger on the seal to activate the blood-linked lock.
As she stepped past the curtains to the quartz tub, lights flicked on overhead, and steam filled the room. The strong scent of eucalyptus filled the room. Viola sighed and let the heat settle over her skin as she entered the large tub. Bathhouses were common in the north, but Prince Faro had recommended this one for a change of pace. She stood in the water, her legs adjusting to the heat, when a young woman stepped in, bowing politely.
"Duchess, would you like oils and salts for your bath?" the soft-spoken girl asked. The rushing water and the gentle sound of the magic were clouding her senses. Viola wanted to command her to speak louder.
"Yes," Viola answered, her voice clipped. The attending woman flinched at her tone, and Viola wanted to sigh. These southerners were weak of heart, and it was about time she packed up and returned to the capital. As the steam shifted aside, the woman gasped upon seeing her scars. Viola stared down at the woman unashamed and the woman apologized profusely.
Viola knew what she looked like, scarred all over her body, the deepest lesion on her side from surviving the northern wilderness. The woman stole glances as she stood in the water and Viola kept her face neutral to avoid upsetting the woman. She knew her duty to this empire meant that she protected the interests of the citizens. She never wanted to scare the people she protected. As the woman continued to pour the oils, Viola wanted to stand firm and proud in her body and the skin that shared the story of her survival. She survived, and whether the people of this empire recognized that or not was certainly out of her control. What she could do is protect her heart and mind against the fears and opinions of others about her.
Viola sat sinking into the water. As the warmth settled into her muscles, she sighed and mentally cursed the cheeky crown prince. He was right, the bathhouse lived up to its reputation and she could already feel the difference with the water. She felt a soft stirring of magic brush up against her own, but it was too faint to be significant or a threat to her. Instead, the warm scented waters eased her tension, and she leaned her head back, resting it against the edge. As she closed her eyes, the soft steps of the attendant leaving echoed in the chamber. She was truly alone, and for once she felt a lonely peace.
