Page 43 of The Fifth Heir

“You are very fond of impossible demands.”

“This is not one of them.”

She closed the ledger with unnecessary force.

I folded the cloth and held it out rather than placing it against her shoulder myself.

“Here.”

Her fingers brushed mine when she accepted it.

The contact was brief, but heat tightened instinctively in my chest. Her clear torc caught the light, separating the red from the other colors for one bright second.

She noticed.

Neither of us mentioned it.

“Hold it over the bruise,” I said.

“It’s warm.”

“Yes.”

“Did you heat it?”

“I heated the water.”

“With fire magic?”

“That is generally how Fire dragons heat things.”

Her fingers tightened around the cloth. “I’ve never seen anyone use elemental power for bathwater.”

“You need to spend less time in archives.”

“I like archives.”

“I noticed.”

She pressed the cloth over her robe, then adjusted it until the warmth reached the bruise.

Her shoulders lowered.

The small line between her brows eased despite her attempt to hide it.

“Better?”

“A little.”

“That means yes.”

“It means a little.”

I sat on the edge of the opposite desk.

For several moments, the only sound came from her fingers tapping once against the folded cloth.

“Do you think it was an accident?” she asked.