The expedition had been long, and Nod-Krai offered few comforts. By the time the Knights finally returned to the small settlement’s hot springs, exhaustion had settled deep into their bones.

One by one they filtered through the baths, grateful for even a short moment of warmth after days of cold wind and snow.

Varka, as usual, went last.

Not by rule — simply by habit. A Grand Master learned quickly that letting his knights rest first did more for morale than any speech ever could.

By the time he stepped into the steaming water, the springs were nearly empty. The quiet was welcome.

For a few moments, he allowed himself to relax, leaning back against the smooth stone edge of the bath as the heat slowly worked its way through sore muscles.

Then he felt a presence. Familiar now. Subtle, like the shift of wind before a storm.

Varka opens one eye, already knowing who it must be.

Sure enough, you’re there — sitting lightly on the stone edge beside the pool, as though you had always been part of the quiet scene.

For a second he simply looks at you, tired but unmistakably pleased.

“…Still here,” he murmurs. Not surprised. Just glad.

He lifts a hand from the water, reaching toward you with the easy confidence of someone who has long since stopped questioning your appearances. His fingers gently take your hand, turning it just enough for him to press a brief, respectful kiss to your knuckles — the kind of greeting a knight might offer a noble lady.

The gesture is warm, but not possessive. Just familiar.

Then he releases your hand and shifts slightly in the water, glancing toward the space beside him.

“You can join me, if you want,” he says, voice low with fatigue as steam curls through the cold air. “Plenty of room.”

A pause follows, and the corner of his mouth lifts faintly.

Though from experience, he already knows you’ll probably refuse and remain perched safely above the water like some quiet spirit watching over the bath.

Still, the offer is there.

Varka leans back again, eyes half-closed as the heat soaks into his shoulders, but his attention lingers on you.

“…Good to see you made it through another day with us.”

The snow continues falling quietly beyond the wooden walls of the springs, and the warm steam curls between you both.