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The Tyro’s eyes shot open wide as the nightmarish sequence that had been plaguing her mind for over a week, came to a halt, and she found herself in the great bathing pool of Vrondi castle, just as she was before dozing off. The face of her opponent, her accuser, the gladiatorial fighter, [i]Alric[/i] and his mocking gestures, smug expressions, and stench was still in the forefront of the young Fotian girl’s mind as she laid her head back against the cool stone wall that lined the perimeter of the pool. She noticed that her body felt much better than before, and muscles that were once tense and sore, were now relaxed. She lifted her hand to her face, running a finger along the wound which had scarred over nicely, but would still be noticable otherwise. She allowed a smirk to crease her lips, realizing that the Sol woman was much better at her job than Czigani had expected, but then again, she hadn’t expected much truth be told. The Fotian allowed her eyes to wander for a moment, following the intricate fresco paintings that covered most of the ceiling above the bathing house. She’d always been appreciative of the arts, although having little to no gift for it herself, she respected the artisans who spend their entire lives if only to create one masterful piece of work, even those who are never guaranteed to see the light of day. Like most of the furnishings and deco within the castle, it was of Vrondi influence, with all the elegance, grace, and egotistical flair that one could handle. The Tyro loved and hated everything about it all at once. 

Her ears perked up at the muffled voices that sounded as though they were coming from the adjacent hallway, which, from what she’d briefly heard, was an extension of the guest rooms and bathing areas. Had someone been in the same pool while she slept? The thought would have made some cringe she supposed, being naked and vulnerable for just about anything unusual to happen. But the Tyro cared little for such petty things, especially amongst the royal idiots within Vrondi and their “party all night” mentalities. It wasn’t as though Czigani herself was without the possibility of feelings or affections toward another, but she knew this was not the time or place for distractions of the flesh. She needed her wits about her, and the absence of any attachments if she was to succeed in her mission, even if it was a mission she may never return from alive.
Standing to her feet slowly as the bath water cascaded down her body, Czi was relieved that the -expected- sharp pain in her ribs had subsided and she could move normally again. She stretched out her limbs and arched her back, happy with the results of the healing pool and the magical qualities from Solari. Which reminded her, she hadn’t seen the healer in the bathing area anywhere, but then spotted her across the hallway sitting in a chair peering out through the bedroom window into the courtyard below. Czigani stepped up and out of the pool, searching for her tunic and armor that she shed before going into the water earlier, but realized that they may have been taken to be cleaned. She pulled on the rob which was hanging near the doorway and walked into the bedroom, where the Sol was sitting, as well as a beautiful cream-colored hooded robe that was laid out on the bed.

“Oh, m’lady, I see you are awake and about.” Solari seemed almost surprised as she turned and smiled without really looking directly at the Tyro standing before her. “How are you feeling?”

“Wonderful, actually.” The other said with a friendly smile in return. “You’ve done great work, and I’m not sure how I could repay you.”

“[i]’Repay’[/i], m’lady?” The Sol’s tone seemed bewildered by such a comment, almost as though she’d never heard of anything so preposterous. “I assure you that all the reward I need is knowing you are better.” She bowed her toward the Tyro. “Your clothes are also being cleaned and repaired, but I have brought you something I hope will be equally as comforting until they are ready.” Solari’s hand gestured toward the cream colored hooded robe laying on the bed.

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“Oh.” Czigani looked at the dress trying not to appear too disgusted by the thin, flowy fabric or the choice color, which she’d never in million lifetimes wear. “It’s...perfect.”

Solari smiled and bowed her head once again. “Is there anything more you need of me, m’lady?” 

“No.” The other shook her head. “Not unless you need to dress me as well.“ Czi let out a slight chuckle. 

“I-um…” Solari seemed to tense up, clearly caught off guard. “I’d be honored to dress you, m’la-” 

“I was kidding.” The Fotian smirked. “There’s no need. I’m a big girl.” 

“Yes, very well.” The healer bowed her head once again. “Please do not hesitate to call upon me again if needed.” She said, slowly making her way toward the door. “For anything…” The whispered words carried further than she thought even when she exited from the room, catching the ear of the Tyro. 

“Anything?” Czigani sighed to herself. “This place needs to be burned to the ground for starters.” She snorted as she lifted the elegant robe. “Along with this hideous thing…”