[Lavinia's POV — Next Morning—Dawnspire Wing]
The first light of dawn crept through the curtains, spilling soft gold across the room. I blinked against it, my head still heavy with the remnants of a restless night.
For a moment, I forgot—then I turned, and there he was.
Osric.
Still asleep on the couch, one arm hanging over the edge, the other clutching the blanket I'd thrown over him like it was a lifeline. His hair was a disheveled mess, his face peaceful but marked with exhaustion.
The man who's stronger and faces armies without blinking was now snoring quietly in my sitting room. I pressed my lips together, torn between irritation and something dangerously close to fondness.
"Idiot," I murmured under my breath.
Marshi jumped down from the bed, tail flicking, and padded toward the couch. The creature sniffed him once, wrinkled its nose dramatically, and then looked back at me with a judgmental expression that could rival any court minister's.
