Drip. Drip.
Steam curled in the air, clinging to the mirror. I lifted my hand, which was still wet, and wiped the mirror's surface. Small droplets slid down the surface, revealing my reflection beneath.
Two silver eyes stared back at me. My dark black hair, still dripping, clung to my forehead, strands sticking together from the moisture.
I scanned my body, tracing every inch in the mirror.
Not a single wound. No scars, no bruises.
My gaze lowered.
A tattoo encircled my wrist—it was like a bracelet of miniature stars and planets. Tiny celestial bodies swirled in an endless loop, threads of light weaving them together like a chain. It flickered, shifting like an illusion. It seemed unreal.
But it was a mark of my contract with Nathalia.
Sigh…
I let out a slow breath.
"All of this… is still hard to digest."
My eyes met my reflection once more.
This time, my focus was on my face.
That face—I had seen this expression before, countless times.
