Emma knelt by the side with a golden pitcher, pouring water over her hair until it gleamed like threads of sunlight. Sarah rubbed fragrant oils into her arms, while Thalia brushed through her long strands, untangling them carefully.
For a moment Salviana closed her eyes, letting herself be tended to, her thoughts drifting back to the fireflies, to the painting, to the mirror and the castle that still lingered in her mind's eye.
Alaric always carries me through… even when I stumble, he sees the details I miss. I mustn't forget that.
Her lips curved faintly, a quiet, secret smile. 'I love that man' she declared mentally, but he was a vampire.
By the time Salviana stepped out of the bath, her skin glowed faintly from the rosewater and oils. Her maids wrapped her in soft linen, drying her carefully, then guided her to the cushioned stool before the great mirror.
