Her panties were lying in the corner of the bench.
She picked them up, looked at them, and saw how soaked they were.
There was no point in wearing them. They would only get wetter.
She balled them up and stuffed them into her skirt pocket, and decided not to think about it.
The wet lace pressed against her thigh through the fabric.
Lor was working on the rest of the room.
He wiped the table and the floor beneath it with his handkerchief.
The smell was the worst of it.
The cabin was thick with it, the sweat and sex, and any servant who walked in would know the moment the door opened. He could still taste her on his mouth.
"One moment!" he called, in a voice that was almost steady.
He raised a hand and gathered his mana, a small quick pulse, and shaped it with a flick of his fingers.
A clean, cool breeze rose from the floor and swirled around the cabin, drawing the stale air up and out through the lattice and pulling fresh air in behind it.
