Serpent's Touch (Serpent's Touch 1)

“A lady needs a maid to get ready for sleep,” she said softly but with conviction.

It dawned on me that was what Kyllen meant when he’d said that people needed to know where to place me. There appeared to be a hierarchy here at the court of the High Lord. Each role came with a set of rules, with rights, obligations, and privileges. A lady apparently needed a maid, and since Kyllen told them I was a lady…

“Well. How about you come in the morning and help me get dressed instead? I’m too tired to be…um, helped right now. Will that work?” I kept my voice as gentle as possible. The last thing I wanted was to offend anyone when I’d just gotten here. It was impossible to accurately judge people’s reactions without seeing their faces.

“Oh, all right. As you wish. I’ll leave the nightshirt right here, then, on the screen frame.”

“Thank you, Geltar.”

She left, closing the door behind her. I came to the door and inspected it by touch, searching for a lock. Not finding one, I propped a chair against the door and made a mental note to ask Kyllen about the lock tomorrow. He was the one who’d told me not to trust anyone.

I briefly contemplated sleeping in my clothes like I normally would. But they were still damp from our dunk in the river. The long pants and the sweater were also too hot for the mild, humid climate of Lorsan. I couldn’t wait to take them off.

Keeping my arms stretched in front of me, I found the screen and the nightshirt that Geltar had left for me. The material felt paper thin and light, like a spiderweb in my fingers. I quickly peeled off my wet clothes, including the bra and panties, and changed into the long, sleeveless nightshirt. The light, airy garment felt pleasant against my skin.

Next, I used the waste room, then washed my face and brushed my teeth in the main waterfall in the bedroom.

All of that could’ve been accomplished easier had I taken the blindfold off. I’d thought about doing that. There was no one else in the room. I could at least peek from underneath it a little to get a visual of my surroundings.

But that would be the problem then, wouldn’t it? I would always try to sneak “a visual” whenever I’d think I had a chance. But what if I wasn’t alone? What if, like Kyllen had once said, someone glanced at me through the window or walked in unexpectedly?

I’d be dead, and there’d be no second chance.

If I couldn’t look at anyone, it was best to train myself not to see at all. Maybe it’d be best not to know what I was missing? Besides, there were enough new smells, sounds, and textures for me to process for now.

Exhausted, I stumbled toward “the nest” and climbed in. It was unbelievably comfy—soft and warm with cool, silky sheets. At first, I lay on top of them. But without my scarf and wearing only the thin nightshirt, I felt too exposed and uncomfortably naked.

Peeling the top sheet off, I got under it.

Kyllen had made my blindfold from a piece of his shirt, and it still smelled like him. His comforting scent of moss and rain cradled me as I drifted to sleep.