As promised, Dragon stayed in Hera's room, watching her as she slipped into sleep. Her routine made it easy for her to doze off, leaving Dragon settled in the chair beside her bed, his gaze fixated on her back.
[Frank, I've been wondering... we're married, yet... why don't we share the same room?]
Hera's inquiry echoed in his mind, a consequence, he thought, of her erased memories. "Such foolish questions," he mused.
Had she not lost her memories, such queries would never arise. It was evident to him. Despite Dragon's belief that she had transformed into an ignorant beauty, he couldn't trust her entirely enough to share a bed. He had already ceased giving her the pills that kept her at bay. He couldn't afford more risks.
"Hera," Dragon called softly, observing her rhythmic breathing. "Can you hear me?"
Silence lingered after his question, her breathing steady, a sign she was sound asleep.
