Linnea Worth is burning out.

Artisan Linnea has no time for rest. The commissions keep piling up, the days blur into sleepless nights, and there's never a moment to breathe. She can't afford distractions, and definitely not the kind that come with a warm touch and a devastating smile.

But when her carelessness sparks disaster, she catches the sharp attention of Iris, a singer and healing attendant at Esk's illustrious Gardens. Iris is beautiful, graceful, and infuriatingly overbearing. And she's determined to be the one distraction Linnea can't push away.

Linnea has never let anyone take care of her, and she won't start now. Certainly not Iris, with her lovely hair and gentle hands. But Linnea is wearing herself to nothing, falling apart piece by piece—and the one thing that might save her is the one thing she won't let herself have.

A cosy, sapphic romance between an artisan working herself to dust and the one person who catches her before she falls apart. This novella has hurt/comfort, sapphic yearning, and lots of tense hair-washing and wound-tending.