A few days later, the palace began to empty.
Palatine was leaving.
Saha was leaving, and Alamina, at last, was exhaling.
Dean noticed it from the windows first.
He was no longer hiding in Arion's suite with the intensity of a wounded animal, though he remained firmly in favor of strategic privacy whenever possible. His body had stopped filing formal complaints every time he moved, which he considered progress. His pride, meanwhile, remained in intensive care.
But he was upright, dressed and functional enough to be moved around the palace like a person instead of a post-rut cautionary tale.
So naturally he was miserable.
