William had fallen asleep. It was late in the night and his body had yet to fully recover.
While talking, he had simply dozed off, the tension of the day slipping away the moment his breathing evened out. The steady rise and fall of his chest was shallow but calm, a clear sign that exhaustion had finally claimed its due.
Emma remained sitting there, just gazing at him.
The infirmary was quiet at this hour, save for the faint hum of lamps and the distant footsteps of guards on night patrol.
White curtains stirred slightly with the breeze slipping in through a half-open window, brushing against the edge of William's bed. His usually sharp expression was softened in sleep, brows no longer knit with focus or pain.
What he told her earlier about the dream he had still lingered.
