Galryn is already situated in his own bath by the time she comes out.  A towel, change of clothes and his small-sword occupy a chair within arm's reach of the tub.  His hair falls down in long wet locks, as he has apparently already washed.  Pink and white scars show up on his arms, chest, and shoulders above the suds.  They record a complex geography of the past, clearly meaningful but with no key to decipher them.  He seems more self-possessed now, perhaps he's sobering up.  He nods to her in greeting when she emerges, and addresses the servants in an even tone.  "Leave us.  You will be called for if we require anything further."