"You're back…"
The two words unraveled the tension in his chest. Leroy's hand reached for hers almost instinctively, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. She was warm, alive, here—and that was all that mattered.
"Of course, I would be," he murmured, leaning closer. His voice was lower than usual, as though the very air around her demanded gentleness.
Lorraine let out a sigh, her smile lingering as she shifted to make room for him. "I dreamed you had a hard time in the palace. Did that emperor make it hard for you?"
His heart clenched. He brushed a strand of hair from her face, fingers trailing along her temple before resting against her cheek. "Not much…" he said, a wry smile curving his lips. "But the dowager… she wants to use you against me." His voice dropped, the words carrying a weight he rarely let slip. That was the reason, he knew, that "Lazira's" name was spoken in the audience hall today.
