Levan did not stay long after that. He had only come to check on her, and now that he was certain she was fine, he thought he could finally move on to the next list of the day.
He stood a moment longer in the doorway, the silhouette of the world he had to step back into framed around him. The morning's worries sat behind his ribs like stones, but for once he set them down in the shape of a promise he meant to keep.
He bent his head a little, finding it ridiculous how his wife had insisted on walking him to the door when it was only a few steps away. Ilaria's expression was somewhere between bashful and stubborn.
There was that quiet sort of devotion in her eyes as she looked at him, the kind that could undo a man before he even realized it. And perhaps it already did. Because Levan was not sure if he wanted to leave anymore.
For once, the thought of turning his back on duty did not feel like betrayal, but a quiet, selfish mercy he had never allowed himself to crave.
