The inn was quiet when he finally returned. Hours had passed, long enough for the storm outside to soften into a light rain rather than violent thunder. Enough for the blood to dry beneath his gloves. Just enough for the cold rage simmering under his skin to settle into something quieter, heavier.
Lunivette slept curled tightly beneath blankets and pillows on the bed, as though she was trying to disappear into warmth itself. The knight stationed outside the room straightened immediately.
"She refused to sleep until you returned, Your Grace."
Orion's gaze shifted back to the bed.
"She finally fell asleep not too long ago." Something uncomfortable settled in his chest. He dismissed the knight wth a quiet motion before going further into the room.
Lunivette never stirred. Not even when the mattress shifted slightly beneath his weight as he sat beside her. Moonlight and weak candlelight softened her features even more in sleep, though faint bruising had already started to darken near her collarbone and throat. Orion stared at them for a long moment, then away. His hands still smelled faintly of blood. The thought settled unpleasantly under his skin.
He should leave.
Instead, exhaustion finally dragged against his bones and weighed heavily for the first time all night. The room smelled faintly of lavender, rain, and seawater drifting through the cracked window.
It was quiet.
Warm.
Safe.
Orion could barely remember the last time a room felt safe with someone else in it that wasn't from his command. At some point, he leaned against the headboard, and, in that moment, she shifted closer in her sleep. It wasn't long before his exhaustion finally won.
**********************************
The next thing Orion felt was warmth brushing lightly against his skin near his eye. Not enough to startle most men awake. But he hadn't survived the last dragon campaign by sleeping carelessly.
His hand snapped around a wrist instantly.
Warm.
Small.
Familiar.
"What are you doing?" he asked, voice roughened by exhaustion.
The room remained dim, and pale morning light slipped weakly through the shutters. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Orion's gaze focused fully on her.
Lunivette sat far closer than he remembered. She was wrapped tightly in blankets, and pillows were still gathered around her sides like a carefully built barrier. Only now did one arm rest free outside them. And her hand...
Near the very scar he despised the most.
The old pale line curved and carved its way near his hairline, down across the side of his eyebrow toward the outer corner of his right eye. The scar had been whispered about across the kingdoms after the Red Dragon Campaign. After his father sold out Ivor to his uncle to keep him in check.
Realization crept slowly.
Not because her hand had hovered near it. It was because she had already touched it. Several times, judging by the faint lingering warmth that was still ghosting across the scar itself. Orion stared at her quietly. Nobody touched it, and he rarely did. Most avoided looking at it too long or altogether. To the kingdoms and various nations, it was a warning, a curse. Proof of what he endured all those years and why he was known throughout the land as the "Northern Devil".
But Lunivette?
She traced it gently, while believing he was asleep. As if it were something not to be afraid of, like it deserved tenderness. The thought weighed in dangerously in his chest.