Vlad couldn’t return to his room even after Dandelion left. The officials and vassals refused to let him go, demanding his attention at every turn.
For Liliette, this unexpected reprieve granted her rare, precious solitude. As the silence settled around her like a comforting shroud, the thoughts she had been pushing away resurfaced. Vlad’s words echoed in her mind.
“Please, worry only about yourself. Seeing you in pain is unbearable.”
The man who always seemed as unshakable as a fortress had appeared so worn that it seemed as though he might vanish at any moment. He had stayed by her side for a full fortnight, even praying to the gods he cursed so vehemently.
“Vlad,” she whispered tenderly.
She remembered his broad back—the same one that had shielded her from her father’s wrath. It seemed capable of protecting her from anything. Though he was only a room away, she missed him. Her consciousness might have forgotten the past two weeks, but her senses had not.
