The knock was soft yet commanding, carrying the kind of patience only he ever used.
Anneliese rose quickly, her heart leaping before thought could temper it. When she opened the door, candlelight from the corridor spilled across his face—warm and sharp, as though the night itself had carved him from silence.
"Vincenzo." His name slipped from her lips before she realized, and she bit her tongue, startled by how much she had wanted it to be him.
He stepped inside without a word, closing the door behind him. The hush of the chamber folded around them. For a moment he only looked at her. It was the first time she had spoken his name, and he heard the way it lingered on her tongue as if it was meant for her alone to call.
Moonlight and candlelight caught in her eyes, tugging at him with something new, something changed. She was looking at him now as she never had before.
