"If it is, I volunteer to be cursed after I bathe," Jean muttered.
As they made their slow descent, the mood lifted just a little—exhausted warriors and fugitives chasing something so simple… a clean wash, cool water, and maybe, just for a moment, peace.
By the time they reached the bottom of the hill, the horses were lathered in sweat and even Lucius looked humanly tired.
The trees bowed back, revealing the hidden pool like a secret kept by the mountains—a stretch of glassy water cradled by smooth stones, moss-soft banks, and a low melody of flowing current.
Salviana slid off her horse with a groan of relief. "If the water isn't blessed, I might just bless it myself."
Jean threw her arms up. "I vote for complete nudity."
Lucius raised a brow. "You do that, and the gods themselves might come down."
"Let them," Jean muttered, already kicking off her boots.
Alaric laughed quietly beside Salviana as he helped her down. "You'll go in first, won't you?"
