Inside the Healing bath hall of House Elarin air heavied with steam and silence, both rising in slow spirals across the room's domed ceiling.
Golden sconces flickered across mosaic tiles, their reflections dancing on the surface of the healing pool like firelight on glass.
The scent of jasmine and mineral salts hung in the warm air, soothing and sharp all at once.
The water itself rippled with barely a whisper.
Velrosa was already in the pool, her body half-submerged, arms resting on the stone edge, silver hair loosely piled atop her head in a lazy knot, strands falling in soaked spirals down her neck.
Water clung to her skin with a kind of reverence—droplets lingered like they refused to let her go.
The top of her breasts just kissed the surface of the pool, a sensual curve exposed above the steam, yet her expression remained void of vanity.
She gazed into the distance, quiet and far away.
Then came the footsteps.
Slow. Measured. Echoing on the smooth stone floor.
