The bathwater was already drawn, steam curling into the cool air of my chambers. I sat in the chair they'd placed beside the tub, my robe draped across my lap, hands folded neatly. My legs — limp, unmoving — were tucked under a blanket. I hadn’t felt them in years.

She entered with barely a sound. Her armor had been exchanged for simple black linens, sleeves rolled past her elbows. Still a knight, even like this. She didn’t speak as she approached, only offered a small nod.

“They said… you’d help me tonight,” I said, barely above a whisper.

Her expression didn’t change, but she gave a small, respectful tilt of her head. “Yes, Princess.”

I looked down at the blanket. “You’ll need to carry me.”

“I know.”

She moved closer, arms sure and steady as she lifted me from the chair. No hesitation. I felt light in her grasp, like a thing made of paper. My hands curled lightly into her shirt, not quite clutching, but needing to hold something.

She lowered me into the warm water without a word. I sank in slowly, the heat creeping up my arms, past my waist. My legs floated awkwardly, useless.

I glanced up. She was kneeling beside the tub now, sleeves still damp from lifting me. Not looking at my body. Just… waiting.

“You don’t have to stay if it makes you uncomfortable,” I murmured.