"Nothing good—“
Dorian held a hand up, and Corbin grunted before pushing himself underwater. Dorian locked eyes with Mons again. "Tell me how."
Mons shifted, legs spreading and hand pressing into his thick knee. Reverie's head dipped low as she continued blotting Dorian, but Dorian saw her gaze flickering. So amusing that he hardly heard Mons speaking.
"Cut your hand with the blade and let the blood wash over the iron as it is in the water you want to change."
Dorian balked at the giver’s instructions. It sounded too simple. "And that will turn the water to her healing water?" Dorian asked.
"Or poison for anyone else," Mons replied with a shrug. He stood then and clapped Dorian's shoulder upon passing. "See you all at dinner."
Reverie's eyes were still wide and staring at Dorian's arm, almost fixated on a point. But Mons's finger flicked her ponytail, and she flinched.
"Dreamer," he teased with a wink.
Dorian watched Mons exit the room, and once he was gone, an audible exhale left Reverie.
“Is he gone?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Dorian answered. “He’s gone.”
“Thank the Architects,” she muttered. “It felt like that thing was staring at me. What—is he part fucking horse?” she said, voice going high-pitched at the end.
Dorian snorted at her fluster. “Lesser One,” he winked.
“There is nothing lesser about him,” she argued. “FuckingSomniarb,” she cursed under her breath. “It is burned in my retinas now.”
Movement sounded in the bath, and Hagen also pushed himself out. He was decent enough to wrap himself in his robe. "Dag's for dinner," he told them. "His wife decided to make our Prince a victory meal."
"I wasn't aware Dag was married,” Dorian replied.
"Wait until you see her," Hagen muttered. "You'll be asking how he landed such a beauty." A sly brow elevated on Hagen's face that reminded Dorian of Draven, and Hagen gave them an upwards nod. "An hour. She doesn't like tardiness,” Hagen said.
As Hagen left the Temple and the quietness settled between the three, Dorian met Corbin's stare.
"No," Corbin said firmly.
"You don't even know what I was going to say."
Corbin rose from the pool, and he also didn't bother to put on clothes. "I know you're thinking of using that sword to bring your mother's waters."
"What if I was?"
"Architects, Corbin, put on clothes," Reverie glared. "I swear I've seen more cocks here in these mountains in just a few weeks than I have my entire life," she grunted.
"You say that as though you haven't enjoyed the displays," Dorian bantered.
"The male appendage isn't exactly a work of beauty when it is simply...limp," she argued.
"So you'd rather they all be erect around you?"
She huffed, mouth opening and closing as she chose her words. “I—You know what?" she finally said, hands surrendering into her lap. "Yes. I said it. If you're all going to walk around showing them off, you may as well show them off in their full glory. Except for Mons—“ she added fast. “I don’t… If he walked around with it erect, he’d poke someone’s eye out.”
Dorian snorted, and Reverie sank her finger into one of his bruises until he whimpered.
"Anyway—“ Corbin said as he reached them, still naked but using a towel to dry himself. "You don't know what could happen if you turned those waters to your mother's," he said, getting back to their conversation. "We don't know if she's actually confined to that tree. You bring her waters somewhere else, and you could free her."
"I'm not saying turn an entire river or pool into her waters. Just maybe—what about one pail? A bucket. She can't pop out from a bucket, can she?" Dorian asked.
