Warm ribbons wind down my throat, through my chest, pulling me closer to him. Enmeshed. When did it become so easy to touch him, so perfect? When did it become so easy to imagine him against my skin, over and over—

He swipes one finger along the bridge of my nose suddenly, then holds it up for me to see the gray smear.

“Ash.” He chuckles. “You’re covered in it.”

“Don’t bother forgiving my impertinence, but you’re no bastion of cleanliness yourself, Your Highness—” I dodge out of his retaliatory kiss, putting a young tree between us.

“Then…” He peers around the trunk. “Should we rectify our sullied states?”

“Common Vetrisian if you please,” I request, sidestepping his hand as he reaches for me. His dark eyes catch red moonlight.

“There’s a creek not far from here—the headman told me it’s where the well’s source begins.”

“And muck up what little water these poor people have left with our sheddings? I counted you better than that, my prince.”

“There’s a pool downstream. It’ll be fine. More than fine—clean. Possibly even romantic.”

“You are exceedingly good at precisely two things, Your Highness.” I rest my chin in a branch and smirk up at him. “The color black, and wooing a woman with the idea of basic hygiene.”

His gaze is a carefully kept smolder. “You’re not going to let me kiss you right now, are you?”

“No.”

“Very well.” He rounds the tree. “Onward to basic hygiene, then.”

With the most unsuitably giddy smile on my face, I follow him over the forest floor, the two of us picking through roots and around mossy boulders in wordless rhythm until the sound of the creek welcomes us. The pool is deep and small, the creek’s waterfall a gentle patter as it empties in and then back out. Summer graces the little oasis with hanging strands of moss threaded with ground violets and white starflowers, the scent like melted sugar and the best parts of an apothecary. The tendrils float in the water, white and purple petals skating over the surface in a gentle, effervescent swirl with the current.

“Far more beautiful than I thought,” Lucien breathes. “He made it sound like a mud hole.”

He turns, and I hear him turn around again when he realizes I’m halfway through pulling my shift over my head. All I can see is gauzy white, and then freedom, my clothes pooled around me and the night air caressing my bare skin and the prince’s back to me.

“Lucien,” I start. “Aren’t you coming?”

“In…” I hear him swallow. “In a moment.”

If my smile gets any bigger, I’m fairly certain my head will split in two. And not in a way that can be healed back up with magic. Triumphant even in nakedness, I hover at the pool’s edge and then slip in.