“Kail…I had a strange dream and—”
He crossed to her, settling the blanket higher about her shoulders. “You should be resting,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to her brow. “You’re still exhausted.”
“I’m better,” she murmured, sleepy and embarrassed. “Just tired.”
He lifted her without hesitation—blanket and all—and returned to the chair at the head of the table, settling her across his lap as though the space had been built for exactly this. Her legs draped over his thigh, her head tucked beneath his chin, bare feet settled beneath the blanket.
He began braiding her hair with unhurried care.
No one spoke.
Zarrek stared like he’d forgotten how to blink.
Thessia blinked once. Then again.
Talia lowered her gaze.
Kailorien met them without flinching.
“She stays,” he decreed, smoothing the braid and lacing his fingers through hers. “We do this together. Or not at all.”
Zarrek’s hands fisted at his sides—less anger than the dawning comprehension of what such devotion might ignite. Talia shifted, bracing as if for sudden weather. Thessia alone reclined, slow and deliberate, studying them like a strategist watching a new front open. One brow lifted.
“Well,” she said, voice cool, “that explains why our Commander declined my offer to house the Sokâr in the east wing. It seems she’s otherwise…settled.”
Auryn made a small sound—a breath caught between gasp and groan—and burrowed deeper into the blanket. Unmoved, Kailorien finished the braid and kissed the crown of her head.
“Offer revoked,” he said. “Indefinitely.”
Thessia’s lips curved. “A shame. I might’ve taught her something useful.”
Auryn stiffened—but straightened. Though flushed to her ears, her chin rose. “I already learn plenty,” she announced. “Each night.”
The room went still.
Talia coughed into her hand. Zarrek muttered toward the ceiling as if for divine intervention.
Thessia grinned—slow, appreciative. “Is that so?”
Auryn realized, too late. “I mean—reading. I read at night. That’s all.”
Kailorien did not correct her. The corner of his mouth tipped.
“Mmm,” Thessia said, velvet-smooth. “Of course.”
Auryn groaned and hid her face against Kailorien’s chest.
“I saideach night,” she mumbled, horrified.
Kailorien bent close to her ear, lips brushing her hair.
“You’re radiant,” he murmured.
“I despise you,” she mumbled, muffled.
“No, you don’t.”
Her only reply was a faint huff against his chest.
