(R-18 Mature Scenes)
Marcus came to Isolde's chamber without announcement.
She felt him before she saw him.
The quiet shift in the air. The way the room seemed to tighten around his presence.
She was standing near the window when he entered, loosening the pins in her hair. The lanternlight caught faint gold along the edges of the glass, and beyond it the capital lay hushed beneath the coming night.
She turned when the door closed behind him.
Marcus stood just inside the threshold.
He had removed his gloves, holding them loosely in one hand. His coat remained on, dark and structured against his broad frame, but his posture was not that of a general.
It was that of a man who had been holding himself together all evening.
"You didn't send for me," he said quietly.
"I didn't need to." She replied.
His jaw flexed once.
He crossed the room in long, silent strides.
Isolde did not step back.
When he reached her, he did not speak again.
He simply placed his hands on her waist.
