Cassian woke to dull grey light, as usual.
He turned, expecting to see the familiar silhouette of Elias on the bed, but instead the bed was empty.
He reached out across the expanse of the mattress. The bed was not just empty; it was cold. Like it had been vacated hours ago.
Cassian sat up.
He dismissed the hollow sensation in his chest immediately.
He dressed himself with the same attitude he applied to every task of kingship, pulling on the dark wool and the heavy leather, the weight of the sword belt a comfort against his hip.
He expected to find Elias in the solar, perhaps staring at the frost on the glass with that familiar, soft vulnerability that Cassian found so difficult to navigate lately.
Instead, he found a different thing entirely.
The solar was already alive with the quiet, scratching sound of quills.
