The dawn light streamed softly through the lace curtains of our chambers, illuminating the scattered silks and candles that still scented the air with rose and myrrh. I woke to the echo of our night's closeness—Alexander's steady breath beside me, the worn linens that bore our warmth. Our bodies had spoken truths we had struggled to voice in daylight; the intensity of that union lingered between us, gentle and fierce all at once.
As I drew my blankets closer around my shoulders, Alexander shifted, blinking awake. His dark curls fell into his eyes as he smiled sleepily. He reached out, brushing a hand across my chest. "Good morning," he murmured.
"Good morning," I replied, voice thick with the promise of new closeness. I turned to him, intent on the quiet tenderness I saw in his eyes. Yesterday's worries felt miles away. For a fleeting moment, it seemed the palace's intrigues could not touch us here.
