The sun was rising.
The first streams of light slipped through the thin curtains of the inn room. The dull shadows of night slowly faded, and the wooden walls grew warmer under the glow of morning. Birds could be heard faintly outside, their song blending with the sound of footsteps from the inn below.
Ivan stirred first. His eyes opened slowly, heavy from sleep. But the moment he became aware, his body tensed. His heart stopped for a breath.
Lydia.
She was in his arms.
Curled softly against his chest, her face turned toward him, her lashes still resting on her cheeks. His arms had wrapped around her during the night, holding her close. Their bodies were so close he could feel the rhythm of her breathing, steady and calm.
For a moment, he didn't move. He didn't even breathe. He simply stared.
