"Your hair is still quite damp," Damian noted, watching the moisture cling to her tresses. "Mine will dry in no time, but yours will take much longer. You should have one of the maids assist you."
Eilika paused, tilting her head as she gave him a pointed, playful look. "Is it so hard to just say that you want to dry my hair?" she murmured.
A small, genuine smile tugged at the corners of Damian's mouth. "If that is what you wish, then please, sit," he said, motioning gracefully toward the velvet-cushioned chair at the vanity. "It would be my pleasure to help you."
Eilika beamed and walked past him to take her seat. As she moved, the subtle, warm scent of sandalwood drifted through the air. Damian inhaled the fragrance, finding it remarkably grounding, and caught her gaze in the mirror as he picked up a fresh towel to begin.
Damian moved with focused care, his fingers working the towel through the long strands before gently massaging her scalp.
