Steam still clung to Aire's skin as she stepped out of the bathtub.
There was no maids around, as Mabel had done something to her maids, and she had set Madam away.
Droplets slid down her shoulders, tracing slow paths along her arms before falling quietly onto the marble floor. The warmth of the water should have grounded her, but it didn't.
Her head spun slightly, not enough to make her fall. But enough to make her pause.
Aire's fingers curled lightly against the edge of the basin as she steadied herself. She closed her eyes briefly, drawing in a slow breath.
Her pulse refused to settle.
Her thoughts… refused to quiet.
She couldn't unsee the tree, the light, the feeling, the war, and everything she had seen. And also, she couldn't forget everything Mabel had said.
Her lips pressed together.
That wasn't possible. It couldn't be. Everyone knew what faes were, what they had done, and what they meant.
