Nicole sat in the bedroom, brushing her hair absently in front of the mirror. The fire had burned low, casting soft gold and amber light across her face. She had changed into her nightgown, the delicate lace brushing against her shoulders, her long hair spilling freely down her back.
But her hand stopped mid-stroke when she heard the door open.
Jasper entered quietly. His hair was loose around his face, damp from the snow. He didn't look at her at first; instead, he went straight to the wardrobe and began pulling out a clean shirt and a dark apron, the one he wore when tending to the lower levels.
Nicole turned in her chair, her eyes soft but alert. "You're home," she said gently.
"I am." His voice was calm, but something in it trembled faintly a note of exhaustion or something deeper.
"You've been gone since morning."
"I had to see Vicar," he replied, tying his hair back with a black ribbon. His fingers moved quickly, almost impatiently. "Then Kanza."
