[Lavinia's Pov—The Next Morning—Lavinia's Chamber]
The morning arrived with peaceful mercy.
Sunlight slipped through the tall windows of my chamber in slow, golden strands—soft, warm, and utterly inappropriate for the chaos waiting beyond the palace walls. Somewhere far below, bells chimed. Servants moved. The empire breathed.
And beside me—I felt it before I saw it.
Warmth and steady.
Haldor.
He lay on his side, close but careful even in sleep, one arm bent awkwardly as if he'd fallen asleep mid-thought, guarding me out of habit. His hair was a mess—completely unlike the disciplined captain the world knew—and his expression was… peaceful.
"He looks like a child," I mumbled.
I shifted slightly, the sheets whispering beneath me—and his brows furrowed at once.
Still a soldier. Still alert. Even in sleep.
His eyes opened slowly, his brain processing the scene.
. . .
. . .
Then widened.
