~~~{────────────
Morning.
Bedroom, Wyfkeep Castle.
Wyfellon, Wyfn-Garde.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~}~~~
Morning light crept softly into the chamber, casting a warm glow over Salviana's face as she stirred, blinking herself awake. The first thing she felt was the solid weight of Alaric's arm draped around her, holding her close. His breathing was steady, a gentle rise and fall, and his face looked softer than she'd ever seen it—a peaceful expression that softened his otherwise intense features.
She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen him this vulnerable, if ever. Did he even sleep most nights? She wondered, finding it hard to imagine him still and resting rather than prowling the halls or tending to some matter of the night.
