As night fell over the tower, she retreated to her chambers for a well-deserved bath.

  The large copper tub, enchanted to maintain a perfectly enjoyable temperature, had already been filled with steaming water scented with roses and violets. The rose petals were expensive to import from the north, so she was going to make sure she soaked for a while.

  The Necromancer sank into her bath with a contented sigh, letting the heat soak into her tired muscles.

  On cue, the headless Cleric shuffled into the room, a sea sponge in one hand and a similarly expensive soap in the other. The Necromancer was glad that the newly-zombified creature had become accustomed to undeath, even as its feet still dragged with every step.

  She called out to it, “Over here. Start with my back and then do the arms, but don’t even think about up front.”

  He shrugged and the stump looked around as if trying to ask what he did wrong, only then walking over to sit upon a stool and begin its work.

  "Skeletons! One of you, come here!" Amithaera called out, scrubbing her face with the warm water.

  Bony feet clattered on stone as a single skeletal servant entered the bathing chamber. This one still wore the tattered remains of what had once been fine clothing. He had been a merchant or minor noble perhaps before his unfortunate encounter with her forces while trying to cut through the Darklands to save time on his trip.

  Amithaera remembered the name: Grimmy Gardner.

  "I need to practice something. Think of it as a play," Amithaera said, settling back in the tub as the zombie Cleric continued scrubbing. "You're going to be a guild master, and I'm going to be an innocent village maiden seeking information."

  The skeleton straightened up with what might have been enthusiasm, clapping his bony hands together before saying, "Yes, mistress! As you command!”

  A little too enthusiastic. It was grating.

  "Right. Just... respond naturally to what I say. React as if… Well, let’s say you’re just standing around in the guildhall and I come up to you," she cleared her throat and shifted her voice to Nyssa's higher and sweeter tone. "Oh, hello there, good ser! I was wondering if you might help me with something?"

  "Welcome to the guild, fair maiden!" The skeleton declared in a pompous voice that was entirely unlike any guild master Amithaera had encountered. Already, she could tell this was a dumb idea.

  He continued with, "State your business, but be warned; we are very important and very busy!"

  Amithaera sighed out, shaking her head, "Just... be normal, please? Um… Hello, yes, I'm asking about a bounty."

  "Ahhh, yes… Our bounties, of which we have many and many more," the skeleton began pacing theatrically, pointing at an invisible item on the wall. "See? We have many dangerous criminals on our boards! Murderers, thieves, dark sorcerers of unspeakable evil!"

  "I was specifically wondering about the bounty for a Necromancer," Amithaera continued in Nyssa's voice, finding the right sweetly cadence. "The one they call Amithaera? Is that still available?"

  "The Necromancer!" The skeleton gasped dramatically, pressing a bony hand to his ribcage.

  He began to shake his head, clicking his nonexistent tongue to his teeth, "Oh, but… but, fair maiden, you should not concern yourself with such darkness! That terrible woman has claimed the lives of countless brave heroes!"

  Stolen novel; please report.

  "... Yes, I know, but is the boun-”

  "One thousand gold pieces! One and thousand," he announced grandly, his hands up in the air. "But what is gold compared to the value of one's immortal soul? No amount of coin is worth facing such a dreadful evil, my good lady!”

  Amithaera's eye twitched, her hands palmed together and coming up to her face, "You're overacting."

  "She commands legions of the undead, that accursed scoundrel!” The skeleton continued, warming to his theme and approaching the bathtub, "Her very presence blights this fair land! It is said that flowers wilt at her touch and noble lords drench themselves in fear at the very mention of her name!”

  "Flowers don't wilt at m-" Amithaera caught herself arguing with the skeleton. "I mean… Surely someone must be attempting to claim the bounty?"

  "Many have tried, sweet child, but all have fallen to her terrible power! Why, just yesterday, we heard tell of a promising young party called the Iron Talons. They ventured into the Darklands full of hope and righteousness, but alas!" He shook his skull mournfully, looking down as he mimicked despair.

  "Alas… we expect they too have met their doom at the hands of that monstrous witch…"

  "Monstrous witch?!" Amithaera sat up sharply, water sloshing below her, the headless zombie Cleric nearly toppling over into the tub as he reached for her, "I am not a-”

  The skeleton tilted his head and covered his eyes at her form, "Oh! I’m sorry! Sorry, mistress!"

  "Forget it," Amithaera made a sharp gesture with her hand and the skeleton immediately collapsed into a neat pile of bones beside the tub, his skull rolling to a stop near the door. He was still animated, she just made it so it would take him a few minutes to come back together.

  “Sorry, mistress…” The minion murmured sadly.

  Amithaera sank back into the bath with a frustrated sigh. The headless Cleric continued his scrubbing, oblivious to the dramatic interruption. She closed her eyes and tried to center herself, focusing on the issue she’d brought to mind. Tomorrow she would venture to the Harrathen guildhall as Nyssa and learn of the reason her bounty isn’t being pushed to more eyes.

  She smacked the zombie’s hands, “Hey! Scrub only my back!”

  After her bath, she wrapped herself in a soft robe and silently walked back to her chambers, already planning her approach. Normally, she would simply float to bed, but her magical reserves had been mostly spent on Hilfrey. Taking another mana potion before bed would only make a nighttime visit to the washrooms an inevitability.

  In her bedroom, the candlelight was so very conducive to rest. Veratreez had procured for her some of the nice new magical sleep-candles that were just sweeping through the kingdom, no doubt buying some for her own little goblin bedroom.

  Not that Amithaera minded. The goblin girl worked very hard every day.

  But back to her persona, back to her incoming task.

  Nyssa would be sweetly curious, perhaps a bit naive. Young women often asked about bounties, right?

  It was perfectly natural to be concerned about dangerous criminals in the area. The little villager would simply be “planning a trip out of the village” and making sure she didn’t venture out too far from the main roads.

  The Necromancer grunted as she plopped down on a stool in front of her vanity dresser. She took her childhood brush, the only physical memento from her mother that she kept from her old life, and began to brush her damp hair before it could dry out too much.

  Once brushed, Amithaera looked around her dresser for a vial of hair oil to keep her hair straight overnight. The damned thing had cost a fortune. She searched in her drawers, but didn’t find it, realizing she must have left it safe in her magically-protected bedstand… along with other private items.

  Amithaera stood up and turned, taking only a single step before she saw it.

  There, placed carefully on her bedstand beside a bowl of fruits, like a flower left by an admirer, was the letter.

  The parchment seemed to glow in the light of the sleep-candle flame, its script visible even from across the room. Someone had unfolded it completely, smoothing out the creases and placing it down caringly.

  For the second time in a day, the Necromancer stood frozen in shock. Her heart hammered in her ribs, her mind went blank with anything that wasn’t this unnatural fear of reading such a personal item…

  It was just a piece of parchment. That’s all it was… but it felt like an unfinished conversation that she dreaded to complete.