Lyra's POV
"You're soaked through." Kaelen's voice cut through the chaos in my mind. His palms pressed against my cheeks, radiating warmth against my chilled skin. "We need to get you out of those wet clothes."
The servant girl who'd been watching me materialized beside him. She extended a plush towel without making eye contact, her gaze trained on the marble floor beneath our feet.
Kaelen accepted it and draped the fabric around my trembling shoulders. The cotton absorbed the pool water streaming down my arms. His hands moved in slow circles, rubbing warmth back into my limbs through the terry cloth.
"I'm okay," I managed to say.
"Like hell you are." His brows drew together, worry etched in every line of his face. "You're shaking. The last thing I need is for you to get sick."
I pulled the towel closer, nodding. My soaked dress felt like lead weights dragging me down. The fabric clung to every inch of my body, making each step feel labored and heavy.
