Nefron showed Krysty a door, hidden behind a decorative wall panel. Behind it was a lavishly appointed dressing room with a bathing area. The tub was more like a small pool, sunken into the floor, about six feet in diameter. It was rimmed with ceramic tiles a gorgeous shade of turquoise, and the fixtures appeared to be solid silver.
Nefron showed Krysty how to control the flow of water and where all the soaps, perfumes and lotions were stored. She withdrew into the bedchamber while Krysty dropped her covering and walked down the three steps into the foaming bath. She settled down in a cradlelike seat at the far corner of the tub and washed herself, even shampooing her long hair. Despite herself, she felt tension ebb from her limbs and mind. A part of her marveled that she was able to relax under the circumstances.
In her wanderings with her friends across the length and breadth of Deathlands, she had learned to snatch every moment of happiness and comfort that came her way. She tried to live as if every day was her last. On many occasions, it had very nearly been. She had lived a hard life, filled with danger and death, but she fought to keep her heart and her soul untouched and uncorrupted by it.
She thought of Ti-Ra’-Wa and how happy she and Ryan had been there. Floating on those thoughts, buoyed by the scented water, Krysty almost drifted off to sleep. Her hair straightened languidly as she remembered the few short days she had spent in the valley with Ryan.
Slowly, the image of Ryan dissolved, the eye patch and scar melting away. The figure who took his place was still tall and dark haired and her lover, but his eyes glowed crimson.
Krysty sat up with a start, unable to repress a cry of surprise. Though the water was still warm, she felt very cold. She stood, climbed out of the tub, toweled herself off and dried her hair.
A soft knock came from the door, and Nefron entered with a garment folded over her arm. “I forgot to leave this before.”
She flicked her eyes up and down Krysty’s naked form, and appreciation and envy glinted in them. “You are so beautiful already, Krysty, but we need to make you more presentable for Pharaoh.”
“How do you do that stuff on your eyes?” Krysty asked.
Nefron pointed to a mirrored dressing table. “It’s called kohl, that black pencil there. Shall I show you how?”
Krysty nodded, ignoring the faraway voice shouting a dim warning in her head. She allowed Nefron to skillfully apply the cosmetics to her face, and within minutes she looked very different. With her eyelids outlined in black, her large green eyes seemed huge, with an innocent yet aristocratic expression in them. Nefron painted her lips a deep red and used a blush to accentuate her high cheekbones.
She allowed the girl to swab her with a perfume that smelled like the sweetest of garden flowers, then she put on the dress Nefron had brought. It was a high-waisted white gown that plunged at the neck almost to her navel. The right side was slit to above the thigh, but at least the material wasn’t the semi-transparent gauze worn by Nefron. She put on bracelets and rings, and Nefron slid a collar of beaten gold around her slender neck.
“Pharaoh will be pleased,” the girl said with something like sarcasm buried deep in her tone.
Krysty shot Nefron a stricken look of guilt. “I wasn’t thinking about dressing for him… I don’t want—”
Squeezing her eyes shut, Krysty rubbed her forehead with her fingers. “What’s wrong with me? Why should I dress up like a gaudy slut for a man who’s keeping me a prisoner? This isn’t me.”
Nefron put a hand on her shoulder, saying earnestly, “For the time being, it must be. Krysty, if you can make Pharaoh believe you are who he wants you to be, he will treat you and your friends kindly.”
She chuckled dryly. “Who does he want me to be?”
“That you will learn. I cannot prepare you for it.”
Krysty shook her head, her scarlet tresses coiling. “This is a charade. It’s like I forgot that or something—”