Glory for Death

"A good, hot bath after plunging into the chaos of battle, with the stench of blood still clinging to me, is truly the best thing in this world," Khillea murmured, her lips curling into a satisfied smirk as she sank deeper into the steaming water. Her cheeks were flushed, though whether from the heat of the bath or some deeper, strange pleasure brought on by the thought of war, it was impossible to tell.

The air around her was thick with the scent of the herbs that floated in the water, meant to cleanse and soothe, but for Khillea, they were mere afterthoughts. What she reveled in wasn't the calm of the bath, but the thrill of the battle that had led to this moment of respite. There was no denying it: Khillea loved war. Loved the clash of blades, the cries of fallen foes, and the rush of knowing she had survived another day on the battlefield.