before her hand could fall away, he caught it midair.
His grip was gentle, almost reverent, as he drew her fingers to his lips.
He kissed them once… then didn't let go, keeping them close.
He sighed, eyes closing for a brief second, long enough to gather his words ..
Then, finally, he spoke.
"…It's the other way around."
His eyes opened, dark and searching.
"D‑do you hate me… Eiravyne Sangrever?"
The sound of her full name struck like a blow.
Eiravyne froze.
"H‑hate… y‑you…?" she echoed faintly, disbelief tangling her voice.
But Urag didn't wait for her answer.
He bent forward, lowering his face to her chest, closing his eyes .
Both of his hands gripped her shoulders, holding her close with a quiet, urgent desperation.
"Eiravyne… it's your choice," he said, voice low, steady. "You could hate me if you want. You could do whatever you want..you're the Duchess, after all."
He pressed a soft, hesitant kiss against her chest, just below her neck.
