Lyan reclined back on the balcony, his chest still heaving slightly from the morning's indulgence. Josephine and Wilhelmina lay beside him, both breathing heavily and basking in the warm afterglow of their shared intimacy. The morning sun was soft and gentle, casting a golden hue over the vast horizon beyond the balcony. For a moment, Lyan allowed himself to enjoy the rare peace. The chaos of the past few days—the battles, the strategizing, the tension—had finally eased. They had won, and the city of Grafen was secure. He ran his fingers absentmindedly through Josephine's fiery red hair as Wilhelmina rested her head on his shoulder, her face still flushed from their recent time together.
But the peace didn't last long.
