The door to their suite clicked shut behind them, and the quiet felt immediate after the long palace corridors.
The pastry box survived approximately three seconds.
Arik placed it on the narrow table beside the entrance without looking at it again, although Liam had spent the entire walk back insisting that reaching the bakery had been essential. Apparently, sweet cream and delicate pastry had ceased to matter the moment they were alone.
Liam noticed.
He leaned against the closed door while removing his coat, deliberately taking his time as dark wool slipped from his shoulders and landed over the nearby chair rather than the floor.
Arik watched every movement.
