The interior corridors of Sunset Fortress were narrow and austere.
The walls, built from coarse grey limestone, were only dimly lit by the occasional flickering wall sconce.
Wendy followed beside Astraea, walking at a steady pace from the third floor of the main keep down to the lower levels.
As they descended, fragmented memories of Sunset Fortress flashed through Wendy's mind.
In the game *Witch's Dominion*, Sunset Fortress wasn't just a military stronghold.
Nestled against the foothills of a volcanic range, its mountain springs were naturally heated by geothermal activity — turning it into the most renowned hot spring sanctuary across the entire continent of Elasia.
Before the war, nobles flocked here in droves. Even the notoriously picky dwarf girls and nature-loving elven maidens would travel from afar just to soak in the soothing steam and wash away their fatigue.
But war had changed everything.
> "Whew! Feels so good\~ If it weren't for the hot springs, I wouldn't have bothered coming to this hellhole to earn merit. Following that 'Northern Lioness' around all day — total dead-end job, honestly."
> "Right? I was on leave last time and my mom dragged me to the capital. Got to see Her Majesty the Queen from a distance. Even though she's Astraea's little sister, that petite figure of hers? Damn, just adorable. I'd give anything to snuggle her in my arms."
> "Hey, keep your voices down! This is Her Highness's turf! Though, let's be real, if she had smaller boobs and was shorter, just judging by her face, she'd actually be a real beauty…"
The sharp, girlish voices drifted from around the corner near the bathhouse entrance — clear enough for both Wendy and Astraea to hear every word.
Wendy's footsteps faltered. He instinctively glanced at the princess beside him.
But Astraea's face remained completely impassive, as if she hadn't heard a thing. She simply held his hand and kept walking forward.
The moment they turned the corner, they were met head-on by three young female officers just exiting the bathhouse — steam still rising from their damp bodies, towels wrapped loosely around them.
The air froze instantly.
The relaxed, cheerful expressions on the girls' faces vanished, replaced with abject terror. Their mouths hung open wide enough to swallow fists — like three chickens getting throttled at once.
"Uh… Y-Your Highness Astraea?! What… what brings you here?" one of the braver girls stammered, face drained of color.
Wendy felt Astraea's grip on his hand suddenly tighten — so forceful that the pressure made the back of his hand throb.
But only for a moment. A second later, her grip loosened.
With a cold, unreadable expression, Astraea waved them off, wordlessly dismissing the three petrified girls.
There was no visible anger in her demeanor — only the calm detachment of someone far too used to scenes like this.
"Th-thank you for your mercy, Your Highness!"
The three officers bolted as if granted a royal pardon, not daring even to glance at the boy beside Astraea, fleeing in panicked haste as if afraid she might change her mind at any second.
Watching their frantic departure, Wendy suddenly felt an unexpected surge of sympathy for the woman beside him.
He unconsciously tightened his hold on her hand.
She was the firstborn daughter of the Valoran royal family, the rightful heir to the throne.
And yet, due to this world's warped beauty standards — because of her tall, voluptuous figure — she was shunned by her people, gossiped about by nobles, and ultimately denied the crown.
Instead, her younger sister had ascended, solely because her "petite" build better matched society's expectations.
What a cruel joke. What a… tragedy.
"I'm okay, Wendy." Astraea seemed to feel the warmth and strength of his grasp. She turned her lovely face slightly, trying to smile at him.
But there was no warmth in her smile — only a thin veil masking the sorrow beneath.
Wendy opened his mouth to speak, but found no words.
What could he say? Offer comfort? Sympathy?
He was nothing more than a prince of a fallen kingdom — a displaced, powerless figure. What right did he have to tell another how to carry their burdens, or to reach into the wounds of someone else's heart?
With that bitter thought, Wendy lowered his gaze and silently followed Astraea into the women's bathhouse.
Any idle fantasies he'd had about some dreamy hot spring retreat — full of steam and gentle trickling waters — vanished the instant he stepped inside.
The scene before him was nothing like what he imagined.
The damp stone floor was littered with footprints and scattered debris. The air was thick with steam and the cheap scent of low-grade soap.
Large communal tubs still steamed, but buckets, scrubbing cloths, and even random piles of unwashed supplies cluttered the area.
It was, in no uncertain terms, a barely maintained public bath.
The gap between the romanticized "hot spring resort" and this dreary military bathhouse was staggering.
It completely extinguished any curiosity he might have had.
Seeing the disappointment on his face, Astraea's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She looked flustered and awkward.
"It's… a bit messy. I-I'll clean it up for you—"
She began rolling up her sleeves.
"That's enough, Astraea." Wendy gently took her arm to stop her.
"You've got plenty of military duties to handle tomorrow. No need to fuss over this. I'm just rinsing off. No need for special treatment."
Hearing this, Astraea's gaze softened. Looking into his star-bright green eyes, she felt her heart ease.
"Wendy… you're really thoughtful."
"Ugh, okay, okay," Wendy looked away awkwardly, trying to cover up his discomfort with a joke. "You just gonna stand there staring? Want to watch me undress or something?"
As he spoke, he gently pushed her toward the door.
With a soft *click*, the door shut.
Leaning against the cool wooden panel, Wendy felt his heartbeat quicken inexplicably.
In two lifetimes, compliments like that had been vanishingly rare.
In his previous life, he was just a freshly graduated corporate grunt, tossed into the chaos of adult society — familiar with its harshness and indifference.
And now, though reborn as a prince, he found himself bound by the absurd laws of this female-dominated world.
Genuine, heartfelt praise — like what Astraea had just given — was something new. Something… precious.
Outside the door, Astraea's heart skipped a beat at his teasing words. She stepped back in a fluster, barely managing to steady herself.
Then came the sound of clothes rustling — the quiet whisper of a belt being untied.
A strange, irresistible pull gripped her senses, making it impossible to look away from the door in front of her.
Her heart pounded.
All the chivalric codes she'd memorized since childhood — loyalty, honor, propriety — wavered under the sudden, overwhelming temptation.
She straightened her back, reminding herself to be respectful, to maintain dignity, to cross no lines.
But then—
**SPLASH—**
The clear sound of someone entering water.
Astraea swallowed audibly.
Her reason screamed *"do not look, do not listen"*, but her body betrayed her.
She held her breath and tiptoed closer — pressing herself gently against the thin wooden door.
The icy surface did nothing to cool the heat blazing in her cheeks… or her soul.
She pressed her ear to the crack, listening hungrily to every small sound inside.
After all, Prince Wendy Black of the Greatknight Kingdom wasn't just royalty — he was famously the most stunningly beautiful man in all of Elasia.
That breathtakingly exquisite face…
That figure — slender, elegant, maddeningly alluring — capable of driving countless women to madness…
And right now, just beyond that door…
Was bathing. Naked.
Astraea clutched her chest, feeling like her heart was about to explode.