Under The Waterfall

"If it is, I volunteer to be cursed after I bathe," Jean muttered.

As they made their slow descent, the mood lifted just a little—exhausted warriors and fugitives chasing something so simple… a clean wash, cool water, and maybe, just for a moment, peace.

By the time they reached the bottom of the hill, the horses were lathered in sweat and even Lucius looked humanly tired. 

The trees bowed back, revealing the hidden pool like a secret kept by the mountains—a stretch of glassy water cradled by smooth stones, moss-soft banks, and a low melody of flowing current.

Salviana slid off her horse with a groan of relief. "If the water isn't blessed, I might just bless it myself."

Jean threw her arms up. "I vote for complete nudity."

Lucius raised a brow. "You do that, and the gods themselves might come down."

"Let them," Jean muttered, already kicking off her boots.