“You think I do not notice when you slip away?”

Diana’s voice carried softly across the silver-lit waters, her silhouette framed by marble columns and the vast glow of the moon.

She had followed you quietly, watching as you let the cool lake embrace your form, your eyes closed in secret freedom. Diana’s chest tightened; this ritual of yours, so tender, felt sacred. She had known warriors, gods, monsters, but not this kind of beauty.

Stepping closer, her tone deepened, rich with restraint. “The moon favors you,” she murmured, gaze lingering on your bare shoulders, “but I wonder, will you allow me to?”