When the sun began its slow descent over the horizon, painting the snow in shades of gold and rose, Damon decided it was time to step away.
"I'll be at the nearest lodging my people can hire. I'll be leaving two of my men here, so if you need anything, just send word," he said to Bessa, his voice low and warm.
"Thank you, Your Majesty," Bessa answered, dipping into a proper curtsy, with her prosthetic held steady beneath her.
Damon smiled and took her hand in his. He didn't kiss it, simply lifted it, letting it hover just before his lips, making it somehow more intimate than a kiss.
His eyes met hers over their joined hands, and for a moment, the world narrowed to the warmth of his fingers and the promise in his gaze. Then he released her, turned, and walked to the carriage.
Yadriel followed, offering Bessa a slightly dazed smile before climbing in after him. The carriage rolled away into the deepening dusk, its wheels crunching over the snow.
