"We are more than the weight they put on us."
When I woke up, the light in the room was the color of warmth. The fire had burned itself down to ash, but a pale shaft of dawn pressed through the curtains, painting the floor in gold. For the first time in months, I did not wake with a start or a thought of battle. I woke inside stillness, wrapped in it, breathing the soft scent that meant home: granite, oak, and the faint trace of Alaric's skin on mine. He stirred the moment I moved. Alaric never slept deeply; even in rest, his body listened for me. His eyes opened, gold softened by sleep, and the first thing he did was smile.
"Good morning, my love," he said, his voice rough with drowsiness. The sound rolled through me, low and intimate, like a secret known only to us. He pressed a kiss on my forehead, and with a heartbeat, I forgot that the world outside existed.
I smiled back. "You always wake as if the sun answers to you."
