Warm water poured over Jocelynn's head in a slow, steady stream, and she closed her eyes with a soft sigh.
"Lean back a little more, Your Highness," Eira said, setting the pitcher aside on the edge of the copper tub. "There's still a bit of soot behind your ears."
Jocelynn leaned back obediently until her head rested against the rim of the tub. The deep copper soaking tub had been filled nearly to the brim with water heated in kettles over the hearth, and the steam curled up into the golden light of the oil lamps along the walls. The whole washroom smelled of lavender soap, but beneath it, Jocelynn could still catch the faint, stubborn scent of smoke and quenching oil clinging to her hair.
Everything ached.
