The last light of sunset slipped through the gap in the curtains, casting soft golden lines across the stone walls of Etien's bedroom. The scent of warm tea still lingered in the air. Glen sat quietly at the edge of the bed, his gaze fixed on Etien's face, still pale, but far more alive than it had been just hours ago.
"You're looking a lot better," Glen murmured, almost under his breath.
His voice was flat, but between the pauses, there was something else, something gentle. Something only he could see.
Etien looked at him, half confused, half unsure how to 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 quiet around them.
Glen gave a faint smile. He reached out without a word, his hand brushing the side of Etien's face with such care it was as if he feared the Duke might shatter. His fingers traced a delicate line along Etien's cheekbone, pausing at his jaw before Glen met his eyes again.
