It did not take long for Violeta to arrive. A set of servants positioned the bath near the window as usual, and then they took turns filling it with steaming water. When they were finished, Violeta lingered, and though she was quiet, I could feel her eyes on me.

“Do you need anything, my queen?” she asked.

“I’d like to be alone,” I said.

“Of course,” she said, and as she made her way to the door, I spoke.

“Thank you, Violeta.”

When the door closed, I shed the robe and lowered myself into the hot bath, gritting my teeth as the water burned my wounds. I focused primarily on the bite on my arm, scrubbing the marks with soap despite the pain. The redness had now spread from the marks, consuming my entire forearm. It was swollen and tender, the slightest pressure sending a wave of nausea roiling inside my stomach, which only served to make my anxiety worse.

There were always consequences when monsters bit or scratched—infection often set in quickly, and the longer it was allowed to stay in the blood, the more dangerous it became. Sometimes it created monsters, sometimes it killed, and while I knew Adrian could heal, was there a point when it would be too late?

There was a knock at my door, and before I could speak, Ana entered. Though pale, her cheeks were flushed, and she looked frustrated. As Adrian’s cousin, she shared his features—pale hair and skin and the same eye shape—though their coloring, while striking, was different. Ana’s eyes blazed green and looked hard at me as I sat in the rapidly cooling water.

“Gavriel tells me you are injured,” she said.

“Yes,” I said. It was not as if I were trying to hide it.

Ana crossed the room, her eyes falling to my arm.

“You were bitten,” she said and fell to her knees beside me, demanding, “Why did you not say anything?”

I stiffened, preparing for her to touch my arm, but she didn’t. She only stared.

“We both know there is nothing you can do,” I said, and Ana met my gaze. Perhaps that was why she was angry, because she had no control here.

She pressed her hand to my forehead.

“You are feverish,” she said and then rose to her feet. As she did, she gave a sharp inhale, and I knew she had caught sight of my back. “You must let me treat you,” she said. “Let me do something until Adrian arrives.”

“Do whatever you wish,” I said. “But I will greet Adrian at the gates.”

“He will be furious,” she said.

“He always is,” I said, and she shook her head.

“You have never seen his fury,” she said.