Freya POV

Samantha sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed, drying her hair with a towel after helping me settle in. I still felt a little sore, but the bath she prepared worked wonders. The scent of lavender and mint clung to my skin, and the warmth of her room wrapped around me like a hug.

“So…” I asked, tilting my head as I tucked into the last of my stew. “Earlier, I meant to ask—how old are you really?”

She smirked. “Guess.”

I narrowed my eyes at her playfully. ...