Her gasp woke him.
Kael's eyes opened to a woman with her hand clamped over her mouth, her body rigid against his.
"Good mor—"
She launched off him, her back hitting the opposite wall of the cave, arms wrapped around herself. She glanced down. Undergarments. Then she looked back at him. Briefs gone, everything visible.
Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened. No sound came out.
Then the tears started.
They came fast and silent, the kind that didn't ask permission, spilling down both cheeks in lines that caught the dim light from the cave mouth. Her hand stayed over her mouth. Her shoulders shook. Her breathing fractured into short, shallow pulls that weren't getting oxygen anywhere useful.
Kael sat up. He had managed wars, rebellions, a fae mutiny, and one memorable assassination attempt involving a poisoned harp. He had never managed a crying woman.
"Okay. That's... happening." He pushed himself to sitting. "Let me—"
