Mikhailis then entered the room again and closed the door to the garden before going back to the bed.
Elowen approached the bed, her presence filling the room with a serene warmth. She sat down beside him, her silver hair cascading like moonlight down her back. Mikhailis reached out, brushing a strand behind her ear. Her golden eyes met his, and they exchanged a look that needed no words. The morning, like their nights together, had become sacred—an important ritual that grounded them amidst all the chaos of courtly duties and royal expectations.