Dawn arrived earlier in Jin's chambers than it did in most of the city. The altitude of her chambers made it so that she would often receive as much as an hour more of daylight than the goodfolk. Jin had heard droning philosophers speak of that fact to support various positions. Were the Algaras more fortunate, favored, or even avaricious to receive a greater portion of light? Or, was it one more thing driving the Highest Kings to work longer and harder for their people? As it stood, Jin saw it both ways, and she disliked it no matter how the academic types chose to interpret such inane details. Because, a single dot of sunlight managed to snake its way through two layers of drapes and the silk surrounding her four-poster bed to land precisely upon her eyeball. Jin was displeased.She groaned tiredly as her hand went to her chest. It momentarily disoriented her to find no one using her as a pillow. She quashed the sadness as it welled up and turned onto her side so her back was to the window. Jin searched the blankets around her and eventually found her plush megarach. She pulled Edwyn into a tight hug and buried her nose in his fur. The old and familiar scent from childhood calmed Jin's turbulent emotions before they could fully arrive.
It reminded Jin of Nikos and his dreams. Of how one smell could mean so much. It never ceased to amaze Jin, how much of reality could become clear by spending a little time away from it in dreams. Perhaps Tarlus was the wisest in the family.
The spot of sunlight made one inch on the back of Jin's head uncomfortably warm. She would've hidden from it beneath her blankets, but then she would find the air stifling. Jin despaired of getting comfortable again, so she made noises of ill content as she slithered her way out of bed.
Sitting on the edge of the bed with her feet on the cold floor, Jin winced as a light stab of pain shot through her midsection. She lifted the hem of her nightdress above her waist to get a look at herself. There remained a slight discoloration on the right side of her torso, but when she touched at it, there was only a remnant of discomfort. Whatever potions and spells the surgeons administered, they appeared to have left her almost entirely mended.
Jin frowned at other things she saw. She was unsure of how many days had gone by since her confrontation with Vintus, but judging by the hair on her legs, it was past time for some personal care spellcraft. Jin stood and went to her washroom, and she vowed not to come back out until she was groomed to her satisfaction.
An Algara princess' washroom was the envy of any noblewoman in the world. Jin's was white porcelain, alabaster and silver fixtures, and lavender pigments. The decorations carried an angelic motif, a holdover from Jin's younger days when she harbored a fascination for Melcia in general and Adeyemi's eldest daughter in particular. Her bathing pool was carved into the shape of a pair of feathered wings, and the mirrors were even capped by golden halos. Looking at it now, Jin felt it to be excessively juvenile, but she wasn't about to change it. The decor was still pretty, after all.
"Essence of all spirits," Jin muttered once she got a look at herself in the mirror. Her hand went to her hair and the ragged mess she'd made of it. The right side looked as if it'd been shorn off by dull scissors rather than a sword. Jin gasped in horror.
Deebee saw her in this state. Of all people. The dragon she had always strove to look as collected as possible in front of, and Jin talked with her while looking like a cur with mange!
"Unacceptable," Jin muttered. Her hands went to the shears beside the washbasin.
It was all the more galling because Deebee hadn't said a word. Though, thinking back on it, Jin had noticed Deebee's eyes being drawn to her hair. The silver had been too kind to say anything, winds bless her.
A melancholy fell over Jin as she clipped off lengths of hair. It was less for losing something she took pride in and more for her mother of the heart. If Fate was kind, their paths would never cross again, because Jin could only expect one situation in which they would. Were that to happen, Jin didn't know if she had the strength of will to face Deebee in battle again.
Jin looked up into the mirror and saw a fiend staring back at her from over her shoulder. Fetid, oily skin and jagged teeth. Eyeless. Jin only saw enough to get that spare impression before its fangs sank into the back of her neck with blinding, piercing pain.
She screamed.
The next thing Jin knew, she was on her knees in front of the washbasin. Her sense of the fiend was gone. She gripped the shears in her hands and held them to her breast as her entire body trembled. Her breaths came out in a wheeze. Jin heard a thin whimper escape her throat as she looked around the washroom.
No sign of the creature. It hadn't manifested itself into the real world. She must've imagined it.
All in her head.
"Your Highness?"
Jin startled.
The voice came from outside Jin's bedroom, in the main chamber. A woman whose voice Jin didn't recognize right away must've been standing just outside the door. She was familiar, but Jin couldn't immediately place a name to her by voice alone.
"It is nothing," Jin called out in response. She licked her lips to give them moisture. "I am well."
"As you say, Highness." Whoever it was seemed worried but willing to let the matter go uncontested. "Should you need anything."
"Of course. Thank you."
Slowly, Jin pulled herself upright. She hesitated to look into the mirror again, but when she did, only her own face was there to greet her. With shaking hands, Jin returned to her work.
Throughout, she avoided meeting eyes with herself.
More than an hour later, Jin emerged from her washroom. Her skin was clean, her legs were smooth, and most importantly, her hair was even again. Jin cut it to a length well shy of her shoulders. She mourned the loss, because Jin had always secretly envied how long and beautiful Maya's hair was. With this latest tragedy, it would be many months before Jin could grow hers out to the length she wanted. Nonetheless, shorter hair was more practical for an assassin. Less of it to get caught or grabbed. Jin decided this was for the best while the Continent was at war and let the matter go. She couldn't have dwelled on her hair even if she wished to.
Her thoughts remained with the fiend.
It attacked her when she was weakest. It made itself known whenever her resolve grew soft. The answer then must've been to remain strong. Resolute. Jin had promised herself and the Queen Founder that she would stand defiant against Althandor's enemies no matter the cost. It was an oath she meant to keep, no matter who she had to kill to do it.
Forgive me, my Storyteller, Jin thought. If you come again, you are my enemy.
With that thought alone in her head, Jin put on a dressing gown and began her day.
A trio of maids went about with dust rags in the main chamber when Jin left her bedroom. The women halted their chores and gave deep curtsies.
"Your Highness," the youngest of the maids said. "Is everything alright?"
Jin took in a deep breath before replying. This was the girl who called to her earlier. She'd been assigned to Jin's rooms for at least the last few years. Her name was Sharra, Sharra Carpenter. Jin inclined her head in greeting.