Rinea, being a homebody, avoided much of the fey trial chaos that plagued the city of Camelot throughout the week. The Red Springs Inn was out of its jurisdiction, and Rinea passed the time there quietly, catching up on her studies. It wasn't until the fifth day that Rinea ventured into Camelot for an errand-- and that, unfortunately, proved to be her downfall.

Rinea can no longer remember what she set out for, originally. When she finds herself walking down a steamy, damp rock tunnel, supposedly a new section of the Red Springs Inn-- why, Rinea is certain this is what she wanted to explore. A soak in the hot springs should do her some good.

It's not until the pools open up in front of her and Rinea sees the sole occupant of them that she begins to doubt otherwise.

"Ah, Rinea," says Berkut. "There you are. I was beginning to wonder if I'd need to go fetch you myself!"

Rinea stands at the edge of the spring, frozen and staring at the relaxed figure of her fiancé. There is no malice in his eyes; the stress built up in his brow from the war is smoothed away. This Berkut is smiling at her, a fond quirk of his lips that she's missed so dearly.

But still... her blood runs cold. Something is missing.

"Rinea?" prompts Berkut, again. "Whatever is the matter? Come here, then."

Rinea is very pale. Her hands come together, clenching so tightly her knuckles turn white. She bows her head, posture pulling together, shoulders rising to protect herself.

"My-- my lord," she manages, eyes burning with the sensation of unshed tears.

She should be delighted. She should be ecstatic. This is what she wanted, isn't it? So then... why does it feel so wrong?