Gray wasted no time in exploring the room, darting his forked tongue out to scent the air before jumping onto the nearest bed.

Laurence turned to Avril, his gaze lingering on the smudges of dirt and dried blood that marred the man’s face.

"You should take a bath first," Laurence began, his voice echoing slightly in the sparse room. “Then I can get a clear look at your wounds and give you something for the pain."

Avril's posture stiffened, his eyes narrowing slightly at the suggestion. "I don't need coddling, Your Highness. My wounds are superficial."

"You said your back was ‘killing you’, and your forehead is split open," Laurence reminded bluntly, moving closer. "They require attention."

A sigh escaped Avril, betraying his frustration. "Fine," he conceded, though his tone suggested anything but acquiescence.

"Good," Laurence replied with a decisive nod. His mind raced through the medicinal knowledge he had acquired over years of study, formulating a plan to cleanse and treat each abrasion with precision.

"Wait," Avril said abruptly, his gaze shifting from the modest room to the short hallway beyond. "The bathing chamber... is around that corner?"

Laurence followed his line of sight. "Presumably," he confirmed.

A palpable tension settled over Avril. "And you'll be here," he stated, more than asked. "Alone."

"Not necessarily," Laurence tried to assure, sensing what the knight was implying. "Gray will be with me."

They both turned to look at Gray, who had shrunk into his smaller form and curled himself into a ball on one of the beds. The kreet seemed oblivious to their conversation, already lost in dreams of whatever fantastical chases such animals indulged in.

Avril's expression flattened into one of skepticism. "You could be easily killed or kidnapped while he sleeps," he pointed out dryly.

"Kreets are never too far from wakefulness," Laurence said with full confidence, trusting the animal’s instincts. "Isn't that right, Gray?"

There was no response from the slumbering creature, save for a faint twitch of his ear.

"…We're in a secure building with Loros knights all around us," the prince immediately switched tactics. "What could possibly—"

"Anything," Avril cut him off, his eyes flashing. "You could be snatched away in an instant. Poisoned. Stabbed. How do we know these aren't impostors? That Maudella woman could be leading a band of cutthroats for all we know."

Laurence exhaled, mildly exasperated that Avril’s level of excessive protectiveness had reached the point where he was doubting those who had sworn their loyalty to the crown. However, he couldn’t completely fault the knight for it; the recent attack in the woods had left them both on edge.

"Okay then," Laurence conceded, folding his arms as a plan formed in his mind. "If it will ease your worries, I'll remain in the same room with you while you bathe."

Avril's eyebrow gave a slight twitch, the only sign of his surprise. He nodded once, a strained grin on his face. "Fine, but keep your princely eyes to yourself."

"Wouldn't dream of doing otherwise," Laurence replied with a frown, irritated by the insinuation. Admiring Avril’s body had been the furthest thought from his mind.

Whatever attraction he might’ve once held toward the blonde had withered and died back in Moridgale.

With that settled, Laurence made his way to the bathing chamber first, with Avril following at a slower pace. The prince turned to the cabinet beneath the washbasin, and bent down to rummage around inside.

His fingers brushed past towels and vials of scented oils before they found what he sought—a line of large, jagged blue sealing stones. He selected one, its surface cool and almost humming against his palm.

"Here we go," Laurence said, more to himself than to Avril.

Since the knight needed to conserve his strength due to his injuries, Laurence would prepare the bath for him.

Holding the stone over the empty tub, he unsealed the essence within the stone. Water cascaded into the bath, steaming hot and clear, quickly filling it to a satisfactory level. He placed the stone back on the edge of the tub next to a bar of soap, then turned back to Avril.

The knight had managed to remove his gloves and jacket, but now stood motionless, his gaze fixed on the floor. Laurence watched him for a moment, noting the tension in Avril's shoulders and the way he seemed rooted to the spot. 

The prince's patience was wearing thin.

"Avril," Laurence said, sharper than intended. It was his turn to give the other an unimpressed stare. "Why are you just standing there? Get undressed."

His voice echoed slightly in the tiled space, carrying the weight of his growing frustration. It was the middle of the night, they were both exhausted, and Laurence still needed to look over Avril’s injuries. He just wanted to get this over with.

"I have no intention of stripping for your perverted amusement," the knight insisted, crossing his arms stubbornly.

Laurence blinked slowly at the room’s only other occupant.

"Turn around," Avril instructed, pointing towards the door. "Face away, if you please."

A flicker of understanding passed through Laurence's mind, a rare moment of emotional insight for him.

"You're bashful?" The prince announced his realization aloud, yet his brows still knitted together in confusion.

Had they not already bathed next to each other before without issue? Why the modesty?

Avril's response was not in words but actions—the clenching and unclenching of his hands, heat creeping up to stain his cheeks. It revealed more than any flippant remark could. Underneath the layers of derision and apathy, Avril was, after all, a person—capable of uncertainty and embarrassment.

Laurence gave in and turned as commanded, facing the door to give Avril the illusion of privacy he sought.

Once assured the prince had removed his gaze, Avril let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. With swift fingers, he slipped out of his clothes, letting them fall to the cold floor with little concern for their arrangement.

His skin prickled in the slight chill of the room, but that was momentary; as soon as he lowered himself into the tub, a groan escaped him. The sharp sting of hot water lapped against his cuts, jarring yet oddly comforting. Heat seeped into his muscles, easing the soreness within them.

Laurence, sensing the shift in Avril's demeanor from tense to relaxed, deemed it safe to turn back around. He leaned against the wall, maintaining a respectful distance.

His eyes fell to absently trace the floor as he pondered their next moves.

Their short-term priorities were clear—tend to Avril's wounds, sleep, and meet with the governor in the morning. But beyond that, the path forward grew murky.

There were larger concerns he wanted to address, which he knew Avril would want no part in assisting him with.

The bandits in the forest and their raids on travelers and the governor’s storehouse pointed to a growing instability in the village. Was it symptomatic of a wider problem? He would need to conduct his own discreet inquiries, perhaps starting with the tavern patrons who had been so reluctant to obey the curfew.

A soft splash broke through Laurence's musings.

Avril submerged further, the water lapping at his chin. The steam curled around him, and Laurence watched as Avril's face turned a rosy hue. The blonde’s eyelids fluttered, growing heavy with each blink, and his movements slowed like molasses as he wiped away layers of their arduous journey.

Laurence observed how the hot bath seemed to dissolve Avril's usual energetic demeanor, revealing someone more serene beneath. The way the heat rendered Avril languid and amenable was not an unfamiliar transformation to the prince, whose thoughts unwillingly drifted. 

He was reminded of their short moment of geniality the last time he’d witnessed Avril in such a state—followed shortly after by horrid tragedy and betrayal.

The prince shoved those feelings down, as far as he could, which left him with a numbness in his chest.

He refocused on Avril’s face, noticing that his eyes were barely being held open. Laurence wondered aloud, "Are you falling asleep, Avril?"

"Not at all…" Avril mumbled, blinking sluggishly. "I’m still fully alert," he insisted despite his drowsy state. There was a playful edge to his voice; a shadow of his typical banter.

"Alert enough to discuss our next steps?" Laurence asked, seizing the opportunity. Avril's guard was as down as he could ever expect it to be, making this the perfect moment to broach the topic.

Avril's eyes snapped open, some of the drowsiness fading. "What's there to discuss? If we come across those bandits again, I will execute them without hesitation," he stated. Then, almost pouting, he murmured, "Like I should’ve done in the first place..."

Laurence grimaced, moving right along past that response. "It's not that simple."

"Enlighten me, Your Highness," Avril drawled, sinking lower into the water.

"Think about it," Laurence began, pacing the small room. "Why would anyone risk raiding a governor's storehouse?"

Avril's brow furrowed. "Desperation?" He muttered, the word barely audible over the gentle lapping of water.

"That’s what I would guess," Laurence nodded. "But why? What would drive them to such extremes?"

"Usually hunger or poverty…" Avril sighed. 

Laurence seized upon this rare moment of collaboration. "Possibly. But remember what Maudella said about the mine?"

Avril's eyes narrowed, fighting against the fog of comfort. "The... sealing stones?"

"Yes, a valuable resource," Laurence confirmed, his mind racing. “One that should be bringing prosperity to this small village, yet I see no evidence of that at all. I think we should look into it." Then, to bolster his argument, he added, "That way we can better ensure my safety, since we might be staying for a few days."

"I suppose so," Avril quietly agreed, leaning his arms on the edge of the tub so he could rest his head atop them. He then grumbled, "I knew this place was suspicious…"