After a long while, Asher walked into his chamber, the weight of the evening hanging heavily on his shoulders. His gaze drifted toward the bed, where Sapphira lay curled up, her chest rising and falling in the rhythm of sleep. Moonlight streamed through the arched windows, casting silver patterns across her serene face. He tilted his head slightly, studying her delicate features, lashes fluttering as if trapped in some dream.
He sighed, a sound laden with exhaustion, and quietly approached. Squatting beside the bed, he reached out and brushed a few stray strands of emerald hair away from her face. His fingers lingered in her locks, the softness grounding him in this moment of silence.
His golden eyes, once brilliant like twin suns, now shimmered dimly like fading torches. They locked onto her trembling eyelashes, and his throat tightened.
