He caught a whiff of incense, then of himself. Again, he regretted not going to the public baths first. The outer gate clattered.
“I don’t know what to make of it,” said a female voice, an old woman’s voice.
“Well, if you don’t know, I certainly don’t.” That was Iola; he was sure of it. He retreated into the bathing chamber.
“Ask Anara,” the old woman said.
Iola sighed loudly.
Thorat took a bead and tapped it on the marble wall three times, a sharp, high sound.
“What’s that?” the old woman asked.
“Nothing,” Iola said. “But I do find I’m hungry all of a sudden. Have Lena bring me tea and cakes, maybe a little wine, too.”
“Didn’t you eat at the palace?”
“The governor’s food doesn’t agree with me.” Iola yawned. “Tell Lenasa to leave it on the step. I’ll be bathing.”
“And so would I,
