The warmth from his earlier spell still lingered in her limbs, subtle, but steady.
Like a thread of golden light weaving through the fog of her pain.
She hadn't realized it at first. But as she breathed, slowly, evenly, the ache in her belly dulled just enough.
Her arms, leaden moments ago, felt… manageable now. Her fingers stopped trembling.
Drawing in a shaky breath, she reached for the cloth he had left within her reach.
Her movements were slow, hesitant, but hers.
Bit by bit, she cleaned herself, careful not to look down, not to think too much, just… focus.
Urag remained exactly where he promised, his back to her, silent and still, his hands resting on his knees.
Not once did he peek. Not once did he shift or sigh or speak.
He waited, anchored in place by his promise.
When she finished, she leaned her head against the side of the tub and closed her eyes.
The shift clung damply to her body, heavy with water and stained.
