The morning was warm, the air humid and thick as the sun peeked through the dense jungle canopy.
Birds chirped loudly, the river nearby gurgled as it rushed downstream, and the scent of damp earth filled the air.
And Salviana was not having it.
She groaned as she stretched, barely opening her eyes before letting out a long, dramatic sigh.
"It's too hot."
Jean yawned, rubbing her eyes. "It's morning, Sal. It's supposed to be hot."
Salviana turned her head toward Jean lazily, "You're defending the weather now? Typical."
Jean blinked. "What?!"
Salviana ignored her, kicking off the blanket she had tangled herself in overnight. As she sat up, she caught sight of her reflection in the still water of the river where they had camped. Her brows furrowed.
"Oh, for heaven's sake! Why are my freckles showing more today? I hate them!"
Alaric, who was in the middle of buckling his belt, paused. "Freckles?" He tilted his head, looking at her smooth skin. "I barely see anything."
