The fire had burned low, casting the room in a soft, amber glow that seemed to hold its breath. The shadows danced on the stone walls, stretching and shrinking with each flicker of the dying flames. The silence was comfortable, the kind that did not need to be filled, the kind that settled between two people who had learned to be together without words.
We sat together on the fur rug before the hearth, our shoulders touching, our hands resting on our knees. The day had been long council sessions, training, and the endless work of rebuilding. But now, in the quiet of his chambers, the world outside seemed distant, almost irrelevant.
Kaelen was quiet, but it was a different kind of quiet than before. The tension that had coiled in his shoulders for weeks had eased. The shadows under his eyes had lightened. He looked almost peaceful, almost content.
I watched him from the corner of my eye, my heart full.
His soft, winter-gray eyes turned to face me. "What are you thinking?"
