Nephis studied the beautiful longsword, then carefully raised her hand, trying to make as little noise as possible.
A moment later, she caught herself and realized how comical her action was. She was afraid to disturb the dreams of the man who was sleeping soundly with his head resting on her bed, his silky black hair scattered across the bedsheet. As if he was not the great and terrible Lord of Shadows, the sinister Saint who had crushed a dozen Transcendent champions of Song while laughing.
…But he was also Master Sunless, the sweet and gentle enchanter who had become her spellsmith, companion, and lover.
It was just that he had looked so drained there, in her dream. And that he looked so tired here in the real world, as well.
His porcelain skin was even paler than usual, and his lovely features were sunken and sharp, the labored breaths escaping quietly from between his lips.