“I still don’t understand why,” Sorin said, his chin on her shoulder.
Nadaria was rubbing the soap bar and using her magic to churn the water to produce some suds.
“I told you it’s called a bubble bath. They’ve been quite the hit since the early twentieth century. Now, they have these fun little things called bath bombs that erupt in colors when they touch water.”
“And you like these things?”
“Oh, yeah,” she said, smiling. “I make them. They are a great conduit for the type of magic I do.”
“Love magic.”
“Yes. And stuff like ‘have a good day’ magic or ‘forget about a crappy day’ magic. It’s mostly alchemy, though, with just a little touch of my love and best wishes.”
Sorin gave up watching her and sat back, sighing. “You have worn me out draga mea.”
Nadaria had to stop scrubbing to
