The next morning began with Dragonspire already awake, because the fortress had barely recovered from the battle at the Silver Gate before another wave of problems demanded Draven's attention.
I woke beside him in our shared bedroom, although he had already left before I opened my eyes.
The other side of the bed was cold, and for some reason that small detail bothered me more than it should have.
I sat up slowly, pushed my hair away from my face, and stared at the empty space beside me.
After everything that had happened between us, our bedroom had begun to feel different. It no longer felt like a political arrangement. It felt like ours.
That thought made my stomach twist with nervousness, because I still wasn't ready to admit how much Draven had come to mean to me.
I climbed out of
