"I miss you."
Those were the words that greeted Philia the moment he opened the door and saw Yerel standing there.
The words were simple, soft even, but they carried that strange, resonant weight he always seemed to carry. Yerel didn't wait for an invitation, he stepped into the room as if he owned the air within it. He looked tired, not the messy, disheveled kind of tired, but the sort of weariness that looked expensive. His hair was perfectly in place, yet there was a faint, sharp tension in the set of his shoulders.
Philia stepped back to let Yerel in, closing the door behind him, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Your Highness. I expected you to go straight to your quarters. You've been so busy today since the sun was at its peak, haven't you?"
