The last light of sunset slipped through the gap in the curtains, casting soft golden lines across the stone walls of Etien's room. The scent of warm tea still lingered in the air. Glen sat quietly at the edge of the bed, watching Etien's face, still pale, but with a spark in his eyes that hadn't been there a few hours ago.
"You're looking way better," Glen murmured, almost to himself.
His voice was flat, but there was something in the pauses, something gentle, maybe even tender. Something only he could see.
Etien looked at him, half confused, half unsure if he should respond. "You… didn't have to go this far, Your Majesty."
His voice was softer than usual, like he was afraid to disturb the fragile calm around them.
Glen gave a faint smile. He reached out without a word, brushing his fingers along Etien's cheek with such care it was like he feared the man might shatter. His touch traced a slow line down the Duke's cheekbone, paused at his jaw, then lifted to meet his eyes again.
