The fire had burned low, casting dancing shadows across the walls of the royal chamber. Outside, snow fell in gentle silence, muffling the world beyond the windows. Inside, the four of them had finally stopped.
Seren lay on her side, her head resting on Kael's chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. His hand moved lazily through her hair, untangling the braids Lysa had woven that morning. Theron stretched out at her back, his arm draped across her waist, his breath warm against her neck. Aeron sat against the headboard, his fingers intertwined with hers, his thumb tracing slow circles on her palm.
No one spoke.
The bond hummed with contentment...a shared warmth that needed no words. After weeks of war councils, assassination plots, charter battles, and public executions, they had stolen this one night for themselves.
"You're thinking too loud," Kael murmured.
Seren smiled against his chest. "I'm thinking about how strange this is."
"What is?"
