Maya's POV
Aurora light filtered through the curtains, pulling me from sleep with the dull throb of last night's wine still echoing in my temples. The unfamiliar weight against my side made me freeze for a moment before reality crashed back. Sebastian lay beside me, his arm curved around my waist, his features softer than I'd ever seen them in waking hours.
I extracted myself from his hold with careful movements and got to my feet.
Today we would fly to Solivian. The concept seemed impossible, almost comical. Here I was, someone who had barely ventured beyond Aethelgard's borders, preparing to jet off to Montefiore for a honeymoon that felt more like an elaborate dream.
At least my passport was current. Victor's paranoid insistence that his entire PR staff maintain updated travel documents for potential international wine exhibitions had seemed excessive at the time. Now it appeared to be the single helpful thing he'd ever done for me.
