She held his gaze a second longer, then turned to the controls. With a flick of her finger, the layers began to undo themselves—magical locks pulling back one by one, their sound like sighs from a sleeping dragon.
The final door groaned.
Warmth. Soft, perfumed air met his face.
He stepped through.
For a moment, neither moved.
Then Elizabeth sat up.
Her gaze, calm. But her lips curled slightly, like she'd tasted his name in her dreams and woken to find it real.
"…Three days," she said softly. "You made me wait."
"I was busy preventing war."
"And I was busy not breaking this place apart."
He tilted his head, half-expecting fire. But instead—
"...You look tired," she said.
That stopped him.
He opened his mouth to speak, but she stood, slowly, gracefully. The air shimmered faintly around her as if reality hesitated in her presence. Her bare feet whispered across the marble.
Merlin said nothing. Only nodded slightly as he vanished in a flare of white mist, taking the hint.
