Awareness returned to me in the form of soft, repetitive pressure.
I was drifting in that heavy, dreamless sleep that follows total exhaustion when I felt it... a feather-light touch on my forehead. Then my cheek.
A soft, lingering press against my eyelid, followed by a fleeting warmth on the tip of my nose. They were reverent kisses, tender and agonizingly slow.
I didn't need to open my eyes to know who it was. Only one person in this entire frozen empire would dare to treat my face like a canvas for his affection.
I blinked groggily, my vision swimming until Soren's face came into focus. He was hovering over me, looking for all the world like an overgrown puppy, his blue eyes bright and a hopelessly wide smile stretching across his face.
"Good evening, Your Majesty," he murmured, his voice a low, honeyed vibration.
