Riven’s expression darkened. He didn’t ask anything further. His eyes drifted briefly toward the contours of the woman’s body—beautiful, strong, but clearly holding stories far removed from grace. As if triggered by mory, images of the scars he had once glimpsed across Ashtoria’s body ca flooding back—hidden well beneath the garnts she wore. But now, what concerned him the most was the deep gash on her abdon.
In a voice that was little more than a gentle whisper, Riven asked, "You haven’t changed your bandage, have you?"
Ashtoria glanced down at her wounded stomach for a mont, then shook her head slowly.
Riven sighed. "Since your wound hasn’t dried yet, it should be changed daily. Otherwise, it could get infected."
He imdiately stood up and walked over to the small cart where he kept his supplies. After retrieving a satchel, he turned back toward her and gave a faint smile. "Co here. I’ll help you change it."
Ashtoria didn’t respond. She only stared at Riven for a mont, then slowly rose and walked over to him. Beside the calm river, Riven sat on a flat stone and pulled out a small bowl, a bottle of clean water, and a folded handkerchief from his bag.
He waited.
Soon after, Ashtoria began removing her upper garnts. Her movents weren’t hurried, nor were they shy. She simply did what needed to be done. As the fabric slipped away, the scars that had once been hidden beneath it gradually beca visible—long slashes, puncture wounds, and patches of skin that looked as if they had once been burned. And yet, her figure remained composed, balanced, and undeniably beautiful—especially her breasts, still covered by a simple black bra.
Riven let out a long breath, brushing away any untoward thoughts. His gaze refocused on the wound across her abdon, and he slowly reached out to touch the bandage. When his fingers brushed against her skin, she flinched.
"Are you uncomfortable being seen or touched by a man?" Riven asked gently.
Ashtoria looked him straight in the face and answered calmly, "Yes. But with you... it’s fine."
That answer struck Riven harder than he expected. A strange tremor passed through his chest, like sothing clutching at his heart. He said nothing, and instead began to carefully undo the bandage. Ashtoria’s gaze never left his face.
At first, each ti his fingers accidentally brushed against her skin, her body would tense. But gradually, she began to relax. When the blood-stained cloth was finally removed, Riven tossed it aside and began cleaning the wound.
He soaked the handkerchief in water, gently dabbing at the dried blood around the cut. His brow lifted slightly when he saw that the once-deep gash no longer bled—it had begun to dry, though a thin red line still marked where it had been.
"Lawbearers really are sothing else..." he murmured inwardly.
After a mont, he finally spoke. "Aren’t there potions that can erase scars? Or Lawbearer healers who could’ve restored you completely? Why didn’t you have these wounds treated?"
There was a long silence before Ashtoria responded. Her voice was quiet, but firm.
"I don’t like showing my body to others. Or letting them touch . Not even doctors. I’ve never allowed anyone to lay a hand on ."
Riven fell silent. His heart began to beat faster. In his mind, he wondered whether she was trying to tease him—but her tone was too serious for that. Eventually, he had to ask.
"Then... why are you letting touch you?"
Ashtoria seed to ponder that for a mont. "I don’t know," she admitted honestly. Then, in a softer voice, she added, "I just feel like you’re different. You’re not afraid of . You treat kindly. You even saved ... yesterday."
Riven said nothing. He was at a loss for words.
Slowly, Ashtoria raised a hand. Her slender fingers touched Riven’s chin—so delicately, as though she feared she might break sothing fragile. The touch was cold but strangely soothing, like morning dew after a long night.
She gently lifted his face, guiding his gaze toward hers—those deep, captivating ruby eyes glowing with an undefinable fire.
"Even now," she whispered, her voice almost like a spell, "I can hear your heartbeat. Normally, a rhythm like that only cos from fear. But you don’t look at like they do. Why?"
Riven couldn’t answer. He was frozen, swallowed by her gaze. A warmth spread through his chest, but instead of making him anxious—it cald him. His breath caught, and ti seed to slow.
Ashtoria leaned slightly closer, their faces almost touching. Her voice, softer still, slipped into the space between them.
"This is the first ti... soone’s ever looked at the way you’re looking at now."
Their eyes locked for a long mont, until Riven felt his heartbeat pounding like a war drum in his ears. In that split second, it was as if the world was holding its breath.
Then, Riven jolted back. His senses returned in a rush. He quickly stood up, cheeks faintly red.
"Your wound’s dry and I’ve cleaned the blood. We’re done here," he said in a low, rushed voice.
He turned on his heel and walked straight toward Mira, who was still sitting cross-legged in her quiet ditation.
But inside, his thoughts were screaming—
That woman’s definitely trying to seduce . Definitely!
. . .
Riven kept walking, not daring to glance back, letting the cool night breeze scrub away the lingering heat from his face. Every footstep felt heavy, as though each step was a battle to stop himself from turning back—to escape the weight of everything that had just happened.
He made his way down a narrow path, past thick bushes and close-growing trees, until he reached a quiet bend in the river. The current curled gently here, like a mother’s arm cradling a child.
Without saying a word, Riven began undressing, piece by piece. The soft sound of fabric, rustling leaves, and flowing water blended into a gentle silence. As his bare feet stepped into the river, he let out a slow breath. The cold clung to him imdiately, biting through to the bone—but it was exactly what he needed.
His body was dirty, sweaty, and sore from training earlier. But more than that, he needed to calm himself down.
He waded in slowly until the water reached his chin, then closed his eyes.
The image of Ashtoria’s face was still burned into his mind—those ruby eyes, her cool fingers on his skin, her voice that seed to echo through his bones. He could still feel his heartbeat refusing to slow, even now that she was far away.
Riven dunked his head beneath the surface, letting the world vanish in a hush. In the silence, he heard nothing but the thumping in his chest. It wasn’t as fast as before—but it still wasn’t normal. He held his breath for a mont, then broke the surface, inhaling deeply.
He wiped his face and lifted his eyes to the star-filled night sky.
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