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same. What would happen when her Drille collided with his?
    “You’re far too young to carry so much weight on your pretty shoulders, love.” The woman spoke from the corner where she mixed potions for Elenya’s bath.
    Elenya wiped away the tear, pressing her lips together to still their quivering. In reality, the weight of the future of her people had always rested squarely on her. So much hope and fanfare had surrounded her preparation for what everyone expected to be a preferred match. She was, after all, the prophesied one, and her marking meant the annulment of the exile. All was to have been forgotten. Elenya should have been guaranteed favoritism.
    At least that’s what her family and the leaders who had visited from the Centrehead from time to time throughout the years had led her to believe.
    “Climb into the tub, child. Old Nema will be there in a moment. I have but one more …”
    The hissing sound Elenya made as she lowered herself into the great tub caused the woman to turn abruptly, forgetting her concoctions.
    “Too hot?” she asked moving to Elenya’s side.
    Elenya shook her head. “The scrapes. They burn.”
    Nema made a tsking sound. “Wasn’t the best decision you made, to run.” She moved back to her concoctions, returning quickly to fill the tub with something from a small bottle. “This will help.” She ignored Elenya’s frown. “Breathe in.”
    Elenya did as she was told, breathing deeply, allowing the heavenly scent to soothe her body both inside and out.
    “How lovely. It does help. What is it?” Elenya’s moment of irritation was forgotten.
    “My own mixture of herbs and florals. Perfected years ago to salve the wounds of battle. For you, I mixed in your lord’s favored essence of Oleander.”
    “Oleander!” Elenya was already rising from the tub.
    “Be still, child.” The older woman cackled. “The essence will not kill and I don’t expect you will be eating the deadly blossoms. No, the master would have my head should harm come to you.”
    “I fear my lord cares little beyond his obligation to procure an heir. I can’t say I blame him for his contempt of my people and the fact that he is forced to mix his blood with them. But they are my people, my family. We have paid long for the wrongs committed by those before us. My marking was to have ended our struggles. Yet I am paired with the enemy.”
    Nema didn’t answer, handing her a bar of Oleander scented soap instead after having her wet her hair. Elenya enjoyed the space in the oversized tub, embarrassed by the goose bumps that appeared when she realized it was a tub the warrior had most likely enjoyed many times. She tried not to think of the way his hand had felt on her back or how warm his mouth had been, pressed against the flesh of her bare chest. Lost in thought, she jumped when Nema began to talk, making the other woman chuckle a little.
    “The Masters know what they’re doing. You’ll see once the two of you adjust to this pairing. It may take time because he is extremely loyal to his family, your lord is. But I sense that in you as well. It’s why you ran. That’s honorable and your lord knows that. You excite him beyond his need to quench the fires of the marking. I am surprised they remain unfulfilled.”
    Elenya’s brows shot up. “How…” she was unsure how to ask her question. Instead, she slumped into the water and bit at her lower lip.
    Nema cackled again as she moved in behind the tub and began washing Elenya’s hair. “Had you fulfilled your obligations, your lord would not have been so tense,” she answered, her fingers increasing their pressure against Elenya’s scalp. It took great effort to work the perfumed concoction through the maiden’s thick hair. “Tahruk may be tightly wound, but nothing relaxes a man more so than...”
    Elenya covered her ears, earning her a chuckle from the older woman. Talk about the act between a man and woman was not something she was accustomed to --