The next morning, the sun cracked through the frost-rimed windows, casting long, sharp beams of white light across the messy rugs of the Sovereign Wing.
Nadir was still asleep, sprawled vertically across the center of the bed with his thumb hooked into Damar's robe.
Damar hadn't moved an inch all night, his arm frozen in a protective curve around his boy, looking entirely content despite the fact that Noah and Fenric had spent the last few hours glaring holes into the back of his head from the adjacent fur couches.
I dragged myself out of the pile, yawning as I secured a fresh linen tunic around my waist. My body felt heavily utilized, but the dull ache in my muscles was just a standard reminder of my life's logistics.
As I walked out into the corridor, a sudden flurry of giggles and the rapid slap of little hands and knees against the heated stone echoed from the lower lounge.
