The door slowly creaked open and Octavian slipped silently into her room. It was dark except for a single candle on her nightstand, casting dim shadows across his face as he made his way across the carpet toward her bed.
She was tired, but not quite asleep, idly stroking the sleeping kitten curled up next to her on the bed.
She blinked and looked up at Octavian as he approached her bedside.
His expression in the dim, flickering light was....pensive. Not nervous. Not on guard. Just....thoughtful. Pensive.
He drew out a chair from a nearby table and settled beside her, gazing at her and her kitten fondly. "May I...?"
Isabelle nodded, curious to know what had prompted his sudden visit. He was welcome to her room, as her fiancee, but he rarely ever took up that invitation unless she directly told him to.