Soothing Waters
5 Winter 513AV
11th Bell
If Wanda were fond of swearing, she would have.
Her too-thin shoes -- slippers, really -- scraped against the stone floor as she bobbed and weaved in and out of traffic, occasionally slapping an unsuspecting passerby with her cloak. Wanda had no time to apologize as she passed.
I'm not late, she chanted to herself. But she was. By about three bells. And she knew it.
Why? Well, she'd woken up earlier than normal. Ivis had given her yesterday off work, with the condition that she would have to show up earlier for work the next day. Today, that is. So yep, she'd woken up earlier, donned her pitiful Winter clothes, and made her merry way to the Rearing Stallion for breakfast.
Unfortunately, she'd managed to fall back asleep shortly after she'd finished her food. She couldn't help it! Their hearth was just too warm, and she was still so tired from the night before. Of course, that was her own fault -- she'd stayed up well past the twenty-third bell with a group of acquaintances, celebrating the season's change by gathering around the fireplace and sharing ghost stories. Of course, this had caused someone to bring up the Rogue Knight character that everyone seemed to have on their minds. With that, a debate sparked over whether he was alive, dead, or simply a ploy made up by the Knights themselves.
Wanda had no opinion on the matter, but the stories were interesting enough to keep her awake far longer than she should have. And now she was paying the price.
I'm not late, she repeated, lying to herself as she finally came upon the double doors of the bathhouse. With missing a beat, she swung one of the heavy wooden doors open and charged inside.
To Wanda's dismay, there already seemed to be a bit of a crowd. Though the cold season had just started, plenty of folks were seeking refuge in the warm waters.
A good-sized crowd of squires were making their way into the great bath, leaving a smaller number to wait in the extensive massage line. Once again, Wanda would have liked to swear. Instead, she anxiously wrung the pastel chemise she'd been toting in her hands -- a change of clothes for her workplace.
Luckily for her, Ivis was busy with a customer. Not so luckily, it didn't seem to stop him from stopping to address her with a frown.
"You're quite la-- "
"No I'm not," Wanda declared insistently, whisking past him and his now-furrowed brow. For a tick it occurred to her that she could have used her djed to subtly "convince" her boss that was she said was true, but maybe that wouldn't be necessary. Maybe if she denied it enough, they'd believe her. Eh, she doubted it.
Some of the folks waiting in line shot the receptionist quizzical looks as the blonde passed, but Ivis simply shook his head and got back to work.
So Wanda'd escaped a stern talking-to for now -- but she still had to get prepared! No doubt Ivis would be sending a customer her way as soon as possible in order to make up for lost time. She skittered down the hallway, found her masseuse room, kicked open the door, and got busy.
The first thing she'd need was light, since it'd likely be a tad difficult to do anything else if she couldn't see. But she also needed to change her clothes... and it would take her just as long to do one task as it would the other. Solution? She lit a single candle for now, casting just enough light for her to see what she was doing as she cast off her cloak and kicked off her slippers.
Her trousers were next, since she found the rough cloth the most restricting part of her outfit. Followed by her blouse.
Wanda fumbled wildly with the chemise in her hands. Was that the bottom? No, it was a sleeve. This? Nope, wrong again. She'd just located the opening she'd been looking for, but it seemed it might've been a tad too late. The familiar sound of footsteps approached her open doorway, while Wanda found herself caught half-dressed. Petch!
5 Winter 513AV
11th Bell
If Wanda were fond of swearing, she would have.
Her too-thin shoes -- slippers, really -- scraped against the stone floor as she bobbed and weaved in and out of traffic, occasionally slapping an unsuspecting passerby with her cloak. Wanda had no time to apologize as she passed.
I'm not late, she chanted to herself. But she was. By about three bells. And she knew it.
Why? Well, she'd woken up earlier than normal. Ivis had given her yesterday off work, with the condition that she would have to show up earlier for work the next day. Today, that is. So yep, she'd woken up earlier, donned her pitiful Winter clothes, and made her merry way to the Rearing Stallion for breakfast.
Unfortunately, she'd managed to fall back asleep shortly after she'd finished her food. She couldn't help it! Their hearth was just too warm, and she was still so tired from the night before. Of course, that was her own fault -- she'd stayed up well past the twenty-third bell with a group of acquaintances, celebrating the season's change by gathering around the fireplace and sharing ghost stories. Of course, this had caused someone to bring up the Rogue Knight character that everyone seemed to have on their minds. With that, a debate sparked over whether he was alive, dead, or simply a ploy made up by the Knights themselves.
Wanda had no opinion on the matter, but the stories were interesting enough to keep her awake far longer than she should have. And now she was paying the price.
I'm not late, she repeated, lying to herself as she finally came upon the double doors of the bathhouse. With missing a beat, she swung one of the heavy wooden doors open and charged inside.
To Wanda's dismay, there already seemed to be a bit of a crowd. Though the cold season had just started, plenty of folks were seeking refuge in the warm waters.
A good-sized crowd of squires were making their way into the great bath, leaving a smaller number to wait in the extensive massage line. Once again, Wanda would have liked to swear. Instead, she anxiously wrung the pastel chemise she'd been toting in her hands -- a change of clothes for her workplace.
Luckily for her, Ivis was busy with a customer. Not so luckily, it didn't seem to stop him from stopping to address her with a frown.
"You're quite la-- "
"No I'm not," Wanda declared insistently, whisking past him and his now-furrowed brow. For a tick it occurred to her that she could have used her djed to subtly "convince" her boss that was she said was true, but maybe that wouldn't be necessary. Maybe if she denied it enough, they'd believe her. Eh, she doubted it.
Some of the folks waiting in line shot the receptionist quizzical looks as the blonde passed, but Ivis simply shook his head and got back to work.
So Wanda'd escaped a stern talking-to for now -- but she still had to get prepared! No doubt Ivis would be sending a customer her way as soon as possible in order to make up for lost time. She skittered down the hallway, found her masseuse room, kicked open the door, and got busy.
The first thing she'd need was light, since it'd likely be a tad difficult to do anything else if she couldn't see. But she also needed to change her clothes... and it would take her just as long to do one task as it would the other. Solution? She lit a single candle for now, casting just enough light for her to see what she was doing as she cast off her cloak and kicked off her slippers.
Her trousers were next, since she found the rough cloth the most restricting part of her outfit. Followed by her blouse.
Wanda fumbled wildly with the chemise in her hands. Was that the bottom? No, it was a sleeve. This? Nope, wrong again. She'd just located the opening she'd been looking for, but it seemed it might've been a tad too late. The familiar sound of footsteps approached her open doorway, while Wanda found herself caught half-dressed. Petch!