Ashtoria's expression shifted slightly, but it wasn't embarrassment. It was something more bitter, faint yet sharp, as if a thorn had pierced her memory. Riven misunderstood for a moment and quickly said with a nervous tone, "I was only joking."
Almost at the same time, Ashtoria replied briefly, firmly, and coldly. "Okay."
The word split the air.
Riven froze, his heart pounding strangely. He had not expected that kind of response. Something inside him, whether fear or excitement, suddenly ignited. His body felt warmer.
Before he realized it, the woman was already standing in front of him. His eyes, though he tried to restrain them, flicked toward Ashtoria's backside. His breath quickened when he caught sight of the curve of her hips and the hidden outline of her rear beneath the water. Blood rushed downward, and he clenched his eyes shut, shaking his head.
'Why am I in this situation?' his thoughts trembled. 'If I run away now, I am no man at all.'
He exhaled slowly to calm himself. Yet his gaze inevitably fell on Ashtoria's back, beautiful and terrifying all at once. Her dark red hair covered part of it, but coarse scars spread across her skin like a brutal map of the past.
His chest tightened. The heat in his body lessened, replaced by something deeper, something unfamiliar. He wondered, How could such a beautiful woman carry scars like these? Who could have done this? Who had the heart, or the cruelty?
His hand lifted, hesitant, then touched her skin softly. Ashtoria's body tensed at once, whether truly or only in his imagination. He quickly softened his touch, a gentle stroke as light as a whisper, afraid to reopen old wounds.
Behind her shoulder, Ashtoria stood still. She did not know why she had agreed to Riven's words earlier. All her life, she had never allowed anyone to see her bare body, much less touch it. Not even healers. Yet now, perhaps she only wanted to know how this man would react to her ruined back.
When she turned slightly, she saw him. Riven was frozen, his face flushed in awe. His gaze was honest, unguarded, strangely sincere.
It was the first time Ashtoria had seen someone look at her like that.
Yet as his expression shifted upon noticing her scars, she held her breath. She was prepared to see disgust, horror, or rejection. But what she found was something foreign, impossible to define.
Then came the touch. Gentle. Alien. So unlike the whips, the slaps, the blows she had always known. This was something different, carrying a strange tide that rippled through every nerve, leaving her trembling.
Did she hate it? No. She realized she… liked it.
Each stroke of his fingers sent her heart racing faster, as though caught in a rhythm she had never known before.
Water rippled softly around them. Silence wrapped the space, broken only by the echo of two heartbeats.
The moment… felt peaceful.
Riven drew in a breath, then spoke, his voice low, almost uncertain.
"Do you… feel uncomfortable when a man touches you?"
His hand still lingered on her back, moving slowly, as if to soothe her. Yet each time skin met skin, he could feel her responses—muscles stiffening, a breath catching, then slowly loosening.
Ashtoria turned her head slightly, her shoulders shifting with the motion. Her gaze locked onto him, red eyes steady, unflinching.
"Yes," she answered flatly. A pause followed. Then, softer, "But with you… it's fine."
The simplicity of those words hit Riven harder than he expected, like fingers squeezing his heart from the inside. Warmth swelled in his chest, heavy enough to steal his breath.
He didn't reply immediately. Instead, he became acutely aware that every touch carried weight. At first, Ashtoria's body always flinched, stiff with resistance. But slowly, gradually, she softened. Her breathing eased. Until, at last… she stilled.
To distract himself from the heat rising inside him, Riven asked the question that gnawed at him. "Isn't there a potion that can erase scars? Or a Lawbearer, someone who could heal you completely? Why didn't you have them treated?"
Silence.
Ashtoria lowered her gaze. Her crimson hair slipped forward, shadowing part of her face. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet, but firm.
"I don't like showing my body to others. Or letting them touch me. Even doctors. I've never allowed anyone to lay hands on me."
Riven stilled. The words struck something deep. His pulse quickened, as though his body reacted before his mind could catch up. Is this… some kind of temptation? he wondered. But no, her tone was too grave for that. Then why… why me?
With his breath caught, he forced the question out.
"Then… why do you let me touch you?"
Ashtoria seemed to ponder. Her eyes softened, but didn't turn away.
"I don't know," she admitted. Her breath came slow as she added, "I just feel you're different from the rest. You're not afraid of me. You treat me kindly. You even saved me a few days ago."
Her words silenced Riven.
And then, suddenly, Ashtoria turned to face him fully. Her gaze traveled down his body, lingering on the scars etched across his chest and arms. She recalled how his sister had once asked about them, and Riven had answered with a lie: wild beasts. But she could see it clearly now. These weren't claws or fangs. They were blades. Marks left by human hands.
Scars of someone who had once hunted her.
Meanwhile, Riven stood frozen. The sheer closeness of her beauty was almost unbearable for a virgin who had never touched another like this.
Slowly, Ashtoria lifted her hand. Her pale, slender fingers reached forward, brushing his chin. The touch was featherlight—cautious, as though she feared breaking something fragile.
Cool. Yet soothing. Like dawn's first dew after a long night.
She tilted his face upward, guiding his eyes to hers. Twin rubies gleamed faintly, depths within depths, pulling him in.
Unwittingly, Riven's gaze dropped lower. His lips dried as his eyes caught on hers. Her mouth, ripe and dangerous, alluring beyond reason.
The space between them shrank, the world around holding its breath.