The stroll to the bathing pool was quiet; the only sound was the soft brush of our feet against the awakening spring grass. The air felt different tonight—heavy with the scent of damp earth and the blooming wildflowers that only opened their petals to the moon.
Damar's hand was cool in mine, his long fingers interlaced with mine as if he were trying to memorize the specific map of my palm. We reached the water, a secluded basin fed by a trickling spring that caught the starlight like scattered diamonds.
"It feels like a lifetime ago since we took a bath together," I murmured, breaking the silence as we reached the edge.
I began to take off my dirt-stained clothes, the evening air biting at my skin, but I didn't care. I needed to wash away the dust of the nursery and the lingering exhaustion that didn't just stay on my skin but was pulling my heart down.
