She hadn’t been exactly silent in the past five years…sticking to her vow to fight where she could. She funneled every cent of her pin money to the local militia and kept her ears open for information. What she’d been doing was easily treason, but her people deserved a chance to fight for the freedoms that had been stolen from them. Even if they didn’t trust her completely, they accepted the little she could do. Sarani had the sneaking suspicion that her father suspected her illicit rebellion, but he’d never done anything to stop her. He might have bent a knee to Britain’s mercy to protect the people of Joor, but a man like Vikram, however, would be nothing but a self-serving lackey.

And he would want her dead.

Putting her worries aside, she washed up at the basin, grumbling to herself about dirt, and shrugged into her night rail and robe that Asha had set out. Though the maid’s duties had changed, she still insisted on serving Sarani as she had in the palace. While Asha drew a brush through her heavy, lank hair, Sarani sighed and absently scratched at her torso. Even her favorite jasmine oil did little to mask the grime. Were there vermin in her clothing? Goodness, for the life of her, she could not stop dreaming of having a bath. If only to remind herself that she was human and to feel clean from her skull to her soles.

“What I wouldn’t give for a bath,” she groaned.

Asha’s hand stilled. “Haven’t you had one?”

“No, why would I?” Sarani’s eyes popped, looking past Asha’s wrinkled nightclothes to her freshly scrubbed skin that shone like polished umber and her clean, shiny hair. How had she not noticed that Asha was cleaner than she was? Because she’d been too busy scratching and being miserable, that’s how. She blinked. “Have you had one?”

Asha blushed, her eyes downcast and full of guilt. “Yes, yesterday. I’m so sorry, my lady. I thought you would have as well, but His Grace mentioned that you were focused on your ship tasks and would have one later.”

Snarling under her breath, Sarani shook her head and clenched her fingers. She could easily have had a bath as well. Rhystan had offered her lady’s maid a bath before extending the same courtesy to her. Not that she begrudged Asha the bath. After all, she was more family than servant. But that devious, underhanded bastard had known exactly what he was doing!

This was just one more move on the chessboard between them. He wanted to torment her. To gain the upper hand. To make her beg. Several of those choice oaths she’d learned rose to her lips as she thought of his last words to her about begging and saw red.