"Will you promise me something?"
The question came suddenly, softly, cutting through the night air like a tremor.
She stared at him, at the man who had held her heart captive for decades. His skin was pale, waxen; his breath came shallow and ragged, like a dying ember refusing to be snuffed out. The firelight cast flickering shadows across his face, highlighting the hollow curve of his cheeks, the sweat beading his brow.
Before she could think about it, before she could rationalize whether that promise would harm her or help her, she found herself reaching for his trembling hand. Her own fingers shook as they closed around his, tears stinging her eyes.
No matter how many mistresses he had taken… No matter how many bastards he had sired… No matter how cruelly he had wounded her by never returning her love.
Even now… when she knew his heart belonged to someone else entirely, she could not refuse him.
