Luca returned home with the weight of dust and distance clinging to him like a second skin.
The long journey had worn him down, but nothing not exhaustion, not the call of rest could keep him away from the one thing that mattered more than anything else - Alessia.
The halls were silent, his men already retired, the warmth of their baths and beds stealing them away from the world.
But Luca had only one destination.
His boots were quiet on the polished floor as he made his way to the room where she waited.
There she was, sitting upright in bed, the lamplight spilling over her soft features.
She was writing in a small leather-bound book, the quiet movement of her pen drawing out secrets he longed to know.
But the moment she saw him, she snapped the book shut as if guarding her very soul.
"Don't come closer," Alessia warned, her voice sharp and trembling, a dagger cloaked in silk. "Or I swear, I'll stab you with my pen, you demon."...
