Soren didn't just walk; he glided. He moved with the effortless grace of a hawk on the wind, sliding across the ice and catching her before she could hit the surface. He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, pulling her upright against his chest.
The position was achingly intimate. She could feel the steady thud of his heart against her back and the cool silk of his cloak against her neck.
"I'm fine," Eris repeated, though her face was burning. She tried to pull away, but the ice was too slick. "Let go, Soren."
"Are you sure?" he teased, his voice vibrating against her spine. "You seemed pretty confident a second ago. I'd hate for the Empress of Nevareth to get a bruised nose on her first day out."
Eris let out a frustrated huff, but she didn't pull away again. She leaned into him, her pride finally bowing to the reality of physics. He felt solid. He felt safe.
