Time Travel Romances Boxed Set by Claire Delacroix

and shiny within it.
There was a table wrought of stone set right into the wall, and
with a hard basin inserted into its midst. Strange golden shapes
arched over the basin, but Aurelia was fascinated by the mirror
that lined the entire wall behind the table.
    She had never seen a mirror wrought so fine.
Aurelia had a mirror of her own, to be sure, - she was a
noblewoman, after all! - one that had been her mother’s, though it
was made of polished bronze. And small. Round with a handle, she
could hold it in one hand.
    Never had that mirror returned an image so
faithfully as this one did. Aurelia could see the scar on the back
of her shoulder clearly for the first time. A symbol of her love of
her crossbow, it had been earned on her first, illicit lesson from
the archer.
    Aurelia touched the scar and remembered. Her
mother had long forbidden such lessons, a demand that was not
surprising given that Gemma had believed in the curse laid upon
Aurelia at her naming. Aurelia, despite her skepticism of such
portents, had not had the heart to defy her.
    But when Gemma died, Aurelia could resist
the crossbow’s allure no longer. This wound had been no one’s fault
but her own, although the flow of his sole daughter’s blood had
made her father bellow like a cornered bear.
    After that, her lessons had been furtive no
longer.
    Aurelia smiled in recollection. The wound
had been mended quickly, as had her sire’s blustery temper once he
realized the damage was slight.
    Concern for Hekod’s present predicament
stole away Aurelia’s smile. Somehow she must find that old woman
again and learn whatever she knew.
    On the back of the door of the little room,
Aurelia found a veritable treasure. A robe of deepest blue hung
there, its fabric thick beyond all. She liked the gold embroidery
on its front - it was stitched with great skill and precision with
the words We Treat You ROYALLY stitched around the
crest.
    Obviously, the robe was meant for her.
Aurelia immediately wrapped herself in its welcoming softness,
rolling up the ample sleeves and knotting the belt about her waist.
It was fine, far finer than a prisoner of war like herself could
expect.
    Gratitude warred with her distrust of Bard’s
intentions. The robe was lovely, but she would not be so readily
swayed by gifts.
    There was a little basket reposing before
her and Aurelia emptied its contents to push such thoughts from her
mind.
    Toothpaste she read on the side of a pinched
little tube. She opened it and found green gel inside. It smelled
of wild mint. Aurelia checked her teeth but found them well
secured, as usual. Obviously she did not need this frippery, though
she wondered why Bard’s household felt compelled to glue their
teeth in place.
    Bath Oil declared the next bottle, much to
Aurelia’s delight. Nothing like the oil from herbs in the bath! She
sniffed the turquoise liquid within and identified both elder
flowers and meadowsweet. Aurelia set the little bottle aside with
approval, drummed her fingers and glanced around the chamber.
    The very sight of the tub made Aurelia’s
skin itch. Surely, in a hall of this size, water could have been
heated by now? There could be no dearth of servants in this
place.
    Where was her bath?
    Aurelia stalked back into the main chamber.
Was this some kind of torture, tormenting her with the possibility
of a bath while withholding the water? Did Bard mean to let her
languish in her fine prison, ignored and unattended, despite his
pretty words?
    Aurelia prowled the perimeter of the room
restlessly, examining each stick of furniture that the whore had
bought. She must be making good progress in emptying the king’s
treasury.
    The tapestry on the far wall hid a massive
window that overlooked the sea. Aurelia shoved the fabric aside and
tentatively touched the clear barrier against the wind and
rain.
    No stretched pig’s gut this. It was clear as
crystal and hard as rock. The rain spattered against it on the far
side, not a drop leaking