"He was a wall that one couldn't come close to touching, even after training for dozens of years."
Kyone's voice carried a note of reverence and bitterness all at once.
She sat at the edge of the bed, her pale fingers threading through Azel's silver hair.
The motion was deliberate, playful even, but she could not deny the way his body eased under her touch.
She noticed every detail — the slight loosening of his shoulders, the way his eyes threatened to close, the nearly inaudible sigh that slipped from his lips.
Of course she kept stroking.
She loved the fact that her esteemed husband was feeling great from her hands.
"But still," she continued, her voice softer now, "until this day, that man remains a mystery even to me."
Azel, struggling to keep his composure, forced his eyes open and looked up at her.
"Why so?" he asked, his voice even.
Only the tiniest tremor of satisfaction betrayed him.
