Rejected Slave, Fated Queen
Steam rises as the giant sink fills, and Amethyst pours some scented oils in, which mix with the steam and produce a delicious, warm smelling vanilla aroma.
Amethyst gestures for me to get in, and I clamber in with all the grace of a new-born foal. She chuckles, before grabbing hold of my arm and peering at me. She picks up something that looks like a small rock with sandpaper attached, then proceeds to scrub my elbows, knees and feet so that all the rough, calloused patches are gone.
“There” she stands, stretching her back and looks at me with a satisfied smile.
The rest of me is scrubbed to within an inch of my life and my hair is detangled with the utmost care, Amethyst tutting all the wh
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