Pearl’s POV
The air outside the lecture hall was cool, carrying the faint scent of wet stone after the earlier drizzle. I pulled my cloak tighter around myself, balancing the basin of soaps I carried. The bathhouse wasn’t far fifteen minutes at most if I kept my head down and walked quickly. A long soak was exactly what I needed to calm the storm still lodged in my chest after Demyan’s outburst.
But as fate would have it, peace was not waiting for me tonight.
I had barely crossed the garden path toward the narrow road leading to the bathhouse when a familiar figure stepped from the shadows.
Rowan.
His expression was softer than usual, lacking his usual arrogant tilt. Still, my chest tightened with dread. The last thing I wanted was another confrontation.
“Perin,” he called, his voice
