Sleep came for Valen slowly, like a tide inching toward shore rather than a wave crashing upon it.
Her breathing deepened first, the faint tension lingering in her brow smoothing gradually as exhaustion claimed what strength she had left.
The hand Kaelvryn still held loosened in his grasp, her fingers falling slack against his palm.
For several moments, he did not move at all, as though afraid even the smallest shift might disturb the fragile peace she had finally surrendered to.
The chamber had grown quieter with the passing hours. Afternoon light softened into amber, brushing warmth across the linens and catching faintly in the strands of Valen's hair.
Outside, distant footsteps and muted voices reminded him that the palace continued its restless turning, yet within these walls time seemed suspended. Kael leaned forward slightly, studying her face.
"You stubborn soul," he murmured under his breath. "Even unconscious, you appear ready to rise and argue strategy."
