Siobhan, The goddess' handmaiden

3. Bath day

The moods of a goddess are dangerous, Siobhan thinks. Ereshkigal was almost pleasant yesterday by the screening pool, but she is a total b***h today. She demanded to have a bubble bath set up in the small pool. The lavender scented liquid turned the water violet, and the bubbles keep spilling over. Siobhan is trying her best to clean them up before they reach the swimming pool and contaminate that water. She thinks Ereshkigal is doing this just to annoy her. Everytime the goddess moves, the bubbles slosh over the edge.

Siobhan washes the long hair of the goddess and cleans all the bubbles away. She uses a comb to keep it from knotting together while wet. Then she wraps a towel over her hair and cleans up the water spilling over the edge of the small pool. Can’t Ereshkigal use a bathtub? Is that too mundane? The amount of lavender coloured bubbles is ridiculous. So is their incessant attempt to sully the swimming pool. Is the goddess using magic to multiply them? Siobhan wouldn’t think twice about it, if she wasn’t the one who had to clean them up.

Then she stands up and steps out onto a black mat. Water and bubbles pouring down from her and all over the floor. Ereshkigal spreads her arms out: “Dry me.” Ugh! The dry voice is cutting into Siobhan’s last nerve. She takes a black towel and pats the goddess down lightly. No pressure at all. Then she wraps her up in a fluffy black robe. Siobhan throws the towel down in favour of keeping the lavender bubbles contained while she dresses her grumpiness. She guards her thoughts carefully behind a wall she constructed in her mind. Nakir warned her that Ereshkigal can read minds.

“I don’t like this dress anymore. Fetch me another one,” Ereshkigal frowns.

“At once, my lady,” Siobhan nods. She runs over to the wardrobe to get a crimson one. Soft velvet and black lace floor-length gown that caught her attention the first time she laid eyes on the collection of fancy dresses the goddess owns.

“Perfect. Why couldn’t you get this one on the first try?” Ereshkigal scoffs.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” she bows. “Do you desire anything else?”

“No. You can go clean up the mess you made,” the goddess turns away from her.

Siobhan didn’t create this mess, but she dutifully cleans it up. Is the goddess this bitchy to her because of Nina? She did keep her away from Nakir. Siobhan could have used that feather at any time instead of saving it. But, what if he chose to take her? Siobhan couldn’t have stopped him. She wasn’t ready to lose Nina to him. It was wrong what she did, now she’s paying the price. If this means Ereshkigal is going to treat her worse than a dog, it’s the price she’s willing to pay. She doesn’t like it, she would never condone this kind of behaviour, but what can a witch do against a goddess? Siobhan only has a small portion of her powers here. Most of them require spells, while the goddess can just snap her fingers and do what she wants.

She cleans the floor and lets the water drain from the small pool. Then she scrubs all remnants of lavender from the pool before she fills it up again with fresh water. The plumbing here resembles what she was used to from London. The goddess likes modern amenities, although she is stuck in the middle ages on some other things. Siobhan takes all the towels to the laundry room. This one is lacking anything modern. She has a basin, washing soap, and running water. If she doesn’t wash the towels right away, they will smell like rotten grass.

Manual labour was never her favourite. She even had a woman that came to clean her apartment once a week. Now, she is reduced to the cleaning lady. More a house slave, really. She can’t leave the palace, and there is no p*****t. It’s punishment, Siobhan reminds herself. It could have been worse. She hangs the towels to dry and stops by her room on the way to the library. Just a minute of rest to stretch her back out. She hasn’t slept since she got here. And there is no sign that her body or mind need the rest a good sleep would bring.

She walks to the library slowly. There is no rush, she’s on her own time. Hopefully, her grumpiness won’t call on her any time soon. Siobhan is so distracted with her own thoughts that she bumps into a solid body. She looks up and holds her breath. The woman is stunning. Long black hair and a body to kill for. Dressed would be an understatement. There are a few pieces of cloth to cover her breasts and private areas, held together with pins. The glowing red eyes give her away. She’s a demon.

“I’m sorry,” Siobhan cringes.

“You stink of lavender. Are you Ereshkigal’s new pet?” The demoness asks. The contempt is seeping from her like poison.

“Yes,” Siobhan nods. She’s not giving her name. Names are powerful tools in the wrong hands.

“I give you a month,” the demoness scoffs. “Run along, doggy.”

“I’m not a dog!” Siobhan growls. She zaps the insolent demoness with static electricity. It’s something she doesn’t need a spell for. The surprise on the woman’s face is soon replaced with anger.

“I’ll kill you for this!” The demoness yells. She grabs Siobhan’s arm with her claws and gets stuck on the bracelet Ereshkigal gave her. The black stones flash and zap the demoness again, only much harder. The woman is thrown against the wall and she slides down into a heap on the floor.

“Don’t mess with me. I might be her property, but she does protect me,” Siobhan scoffs. She doesn’t even look at the demoness, she walks away with her head raised. It’s the first time she met anyone else inside the palace. The demoness doesn’t reside here, so what was she doing here? She didn’t come from the direction of the throne room or Ereshkigal’s chambers. Where was she then?

Siobhan decides she doesn’t need to know. She doesn’t care. The book she was reading the other day is still where she left it. On her favourite windowsill. As she gets comfortable and ready to read, her bracelet flashes red. It’s a sign that Ereshkigal needs her. She lets the book drop to the sill and runs as fast as she can. The goddess is in the throne room. Siobhan is amazed at the instant knowledge about her mistress’ whereabouts.

“Go see what is going on in the kitchens,” Ereshkigal orders. “I’m thirsty. Bring me my special wine.”

“At once, my lady,” Siobhan falls back to her standard response that won’t get her in more trouble. She walks backwards to the door of the throne room. Only when the goddess can’t see her anymore does she turn and walk briskly in the direction of the palace kitchens. She knows where those rooms are, she just never went there before. Siobhan doesn’t eat or drink and the goddess has always magicked her drinks before.

What happened that she suddenly can’t? Siobhan knows how magic works. All things must come from somewhere. So that means the pitcher and goblet are not in their designated place. Was someone there to change things? There must be someone working in the kitchens to prepare it, but she never met anyone. The weird noise coming from the kitchen makes her walk faster. If she didn’t know better, she’d think someone was crying. Siobhan rounds the last corner and stops at the door. The scene is disturbing in so many different ways, she can’t even piece it together.