Debt of Skin

Four: Water and Soap Cannot Scrub Enmity Away

On the sixth day, Mahe could take his filth no longer. As soon as a guard came with their breakfast, and it wasn't that same asshole who felt the need to treat them like dirt, he requested a chance to bathe. He felt disgusting, and he knew he smelt it too. His hair was slicking back into his usual braid much easier than normal, which was incredibly alarming given how difficult his waves were usually to tame.

Kaliya was also starting to stink. Once he realized that, he took the opportunity to shove his armpit in Mahe's face. That was the final straw. If they did not get to bathe soon, Mahe was going to start digging a hole through the solid wall to escape.

The guard left after the request was made. Every time they asked for something, it was a bit of a process to have that thing come to fruition. It had to work its way up the chain all the way to King Xiane, then back down again.

Mahe thought it best to play a game in the meantime. "This game is very simple. You need to stay on your cot, and I need to stay on my mine. The first to touch the floor loses."

Kaliya laughed. "You just want me to stay away from you so you don't have to smell me."

"I got lightheaded. I think you poisoned me." Mahe shuddered at the memory. Kaliya captured him in a moment of weakness, and if he had a blade on him, he probably would have stabbed him again.

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm sure you smell no better. Maybe you poisoned yourself."

"I actually don't smell as bad. Blood Immortals don't get as dirty as fast."

"Is that true?" Kaliya asked, actually unsure if that had any weight in reality.

"Are you a Blood Immortal?" Mahe countered.

"...no."

"Then how would you know?" His face was so stoic that Kaliya could only choose to believe him blindly. Mahe was mostly lying — Blood Immortals almost never grew sick and as a result fended off germs at an incredible rate. However, that didn't mean that dirt on the surface of the skin was apart of that. It did help with things like bad breath, but anything external was not included.

Naturally, Kaliya could not refute the validity of his words, and was forced to concede. "Fine, fine. I may smell worse than you. I can't wait for fresh clothes."

Mahe nodded. It was warm in the cell during the day, and thus caused them both to sweat. They could only wait with bated breath for someone to tell them that their proposition was accepted. They had only gotten one change of clothes since the beginning of captivity, which was less than nobles were typically accustomed to. Normally they had freshly washed clothes waiting for them every morning.

No one had come to visit since Safiya, making each day feel like endless agony. It was unbelievably dull, and when it wasn't, it was only because Kaliya continued making Mahe's mood worse. He claimed that it was to kill time, but Mahe thought it was as simple as wanting to aggravate him.

Kaliya was clearly impatient as they waited for approval. He kept shifting his leg, tempted to touch his boot to the floor. It always came incredibly close, but at the last minute he would raise it. It reminded Mahe of when they were little and they would play similar games. Kaliya always tempted fate, and would eventually slip up just the slightest amount as a result. That was how Mahe won almost everything. It wasn't because Mahe cared all that much about winning, but because Kaliya was too restless to.

Except for when they would play games like tag or toy swords, because then Mahe would never care enough to try. He didn't particularly enjoy running around, and he especially didn't like fighting as if they were soldiers. Kaliya usually recruited the Princes to join him, and Mahe would act as a mediator to keep them from getting too angry with each other.