Steam had already begun to gather in delicate curls by the time they reached the bathing chamber, wrapping the air in a humid embrace that softened every edge.

  Noa shut the door behind them without a word, the tch clicking softly into pce. The walk there had been measured, neither tense nor dramatic, with Liora's steps slower than usual, her movements deliberate as if testing the weight of her own body. Noa had stayed close enough to steady her if the need arose, though Liora never voiced it.

  The chamber held both a rinsing shower and a deeper bathing pool, the former ready with warm water cascading from fixtures in the stone wall, promising a swift cleanse before the linger of a soak. Heat rolled off the pool's surface in gentle waves nearby, its waters still and inviting.

  Liora exhaled through her teeth as she stepped under the shower's stream first, the initial sting prickling her skin before it surrendered to a profound relief that eased the tension from her limbs. Her shoulders dropped almost immediately, releasing a sigh that mingled with the falling water.

  Noa watched that subtle transformation unfold, her gaze steady and observant.

  Then she untied her robe with unhurried grace and joined her under the rinse, the water parting around her form as she stood beside Liora for the brief cleanse.

  For a moment, neither of them spoke, allowing the quiet to envelop them amid the steady patter.

  Once rinsed, they moved to the bathing pool, stepping in opposite each other as the warmer depths enveloped them. The room remained thick with that enveloping warmth, the stone walls softened by the haze, their surfaces glistening with condensation. The silence wasn’t strained or awkward; it was simply full, heavy with unspoken understanding and the shared rhythm of their breaths.

  Liora shifted carefully in the pool, the water rippling outward, and gnced up through the haze that blurred the boundaries between them.

  “Did you limp this bad?” she asked.

  Noa blinked once—then ughed under her breath, the sound low and intimate.

  “I think worse.”

  Liora groaned and tipped her head back against the edge of the pool, the cool stone a contrast to the heated water pping at her neck.

  “Fantastic.”

  “You were trying to py it off,” Noa added, her tone ced with gentle amusement.

  “I was succeeding.”

  “You absolutely were not.”

  Liora cracked one eye open, smirking—and then winced as the water moved against a darker mark, sending a brief fre of discomfort through her.

  “Worth it,” she muttered, her voice carrying a hint of defiance mixed with satisfaction.

  Noa reached for a cloth nearby, dipping it into the pool with a soft spsh. She hesitated only briefly before moving closer through the water, brushing it gently across Liora’s shoulder. Careful. Slow. The touch was light, tracing the contours with a tenderness born of familiarity.

  “Be honest,” Noa said. “Was there a moment you thought you’d miscalcuted?”

  Liora let out a breath that almost sounded like a ugh, her chest rising and falling with it.

  “Oh, absolutely.”

  Noa raised an eyebrow, her expression curious yet knowing.

  “And?”

  “And then I stopped calcuting.”

  The answer settled between them like a shared secret, lingering in the steam-filled air.

  Noa didn’t respond right away, her focus shifting as she moved the cloth lower, attentive around the worst of it, ensuring each stroke soothed rather than irritated.

  “Did he…?” she began, then stopped, the words trailing off into the warmth.

  Liora’s mouth curved into a subtle smile, her eyes half-lidded.

  “Yes.”

  “That wasn’t the question.”

  “I know.” Liora closed her eyes as warm water ran over her colrbone, tracing paths down her skin. “Still yes.”

  Noa snorted despite herself and shook her head, a quiet chuckle escaping her.

  “I remember thinking the first time that it couldn’t possibly be happening the way it was happening. Like my body had made a tactical error.”

  Liora opened one eye, her gaze meeting Noa’s through the mist.

  “Oh, thank God. So it’s not just me.”

  They both ughed then—quiet and conspiratorial, the sound dissolving quickly into the steam, leaving behind a lighter atmosphere that danced on the water’s surface.

  Noa dipped the cloth again, this time with a touch more bravery, her movements fluid as she continued her care.

  “You look…” she said slowly, studying her with a thoughtful tilt of her head. “Different.”

  Liora didn’t answer immediately, allowing the words to hang as she considered them.

  The humor eased out of her expression, repced by a contemptive calm. She stared at the ceiling for a long moment, watching condensation gather along the beams, droplets forming and tracing zy paths downward.

  “I feel different,” she said at st.

  Not lighter.

  Not conquered.

  Not dazed.

  Just steadier, as if some internal bance had finally aligned.

  The water pped gently against the sides of the pool, a rhythmic murmur that underscored the quiet intimacy of the space.

  Noa leaned back, folding the cloth in her hands with deliberate folds. She wasn’t looking at the marks anymore, her attention drawn instead to the serene quiet that had settled over Liora.

  After a beat, Liora turned her head, mischief flickering back into pce like a spark in the haze.

  “So,” she asked lightly, her tone pyful, “does he always look that calm afterward, or is that new?”

  Noa burst out ughing, the sound fuller this time, echoing softly off the stone.

  “Oh no. That’s cssic.”

  Liora groaned theatrically and slid lower into the water, letting it envelop her up to her chin.

  “Figures.”

  Noa moved behind her then, gathering Liora’s hair with gentle fingers and pouring warm water over it from a nearby vessel, the cascade soothing and rhythmic. Her fingers worked soap through the strands with familiar ease, massaging the scalp in slow circles. Liora didn’t tense. Didn’t brace. She leaned back into it, her body yielding to the comfort without reservation.

  Noa paused, hands still for a fraction of a second—registering that subtle surrender, the trust implicit in the motion.

  Then she continued, her touch steady and reassuring.

  “Welcome,” she said quietly, the word carrying a warmth that matched the pool around them.

  Liora smiled with her eyes closed, the expression soft and genuine.

  “Yeah,” she murmured. “Feels like it.”

  The bath went on, the water's heat seeping deeper into her muscles, easing away the remnants of exertion.

  Not as ritual.

  Not as proof.

  Not as cleansing from something broken.

  Just heat.

  Water.

  Two women sitting close enough not to pretend, sharing the space with an ease that spoke of deeper connections.

  And for the first time since entering the Room, Liora wasn’t holding herself together with careful effort.

  She simply was, present in the moment, enveloped in the steam and the quiet companionship.