The fire had burned lower.
Only a few stubborn flames remained in the hearth, casting a warm amber glow across the chamber. Outside, Peduviel had finally surrendered to sleep. The laughter and music that had filled the palace hours ago had faded, leaving only the distant whisper of wind against stone.
Aya stood before Killan's chair.
His hand still rested around her wrist.
Not holding her in place.
Simply unwilling to let go.
For a long moment neither of them spoke. The silence between them felt different now. Not uncertain. Not awkward.
Comfortable.
Dangerous.
Aya glanced down at his hand before lifting her eyes to his face.
"You're very careful with me."
A faint smile touched the corner of his mouth. "I try to be."
"Why?"
The question lingered between them as Killan looked at her for several seconds before answering.
"Because very few people are."
Aya's brow furrowed slightly.
Before she could respond, he continued.
