A bath was not unlike a hot spring. Perhaps it would not have the soothing effects of one, but it would be a welcome reprieve nonetheless. That it would share that gentleness with Lobco was a singularly wonderful thing, and would have been worth it even if a bath did nothing at all.

The Hollow Knight removed its cloak, unfastening the ties its sister had so expertly woven into the fabric. It swung the cloak from its shoulders in a rippling spiral of fabric, admiring even now the excellence of her craftsmanship. Wherever she was now, it wished her well.

Once the cloak was safely stowed away, the Hollow Knight came to the lip of the pool. It reached down with one long finger, testing the water. Warm. Pleasant to the touch. The ripple that spread out from its touch reminded it so sweetly of the springs in Hallownest.

Carefully, it lowered itself into the water, slipping in with the minimal amount of disturbance it could make. It was large, and the bath hardly a pool, but it found if it sat down, it could submerge most of its body.

Gently, it raised one hand, steam rising from the black carapace, and held it out to Lobco, to help her into the bath as well.