When the bodice finally came undone, Levan did not move away. His hands stayed at her waist steadily. It was as if he were giving the moment room to decide what it wanted to become. The space between them felt suddenly smaller, narrowed by quiet breaths and the awareness of how close they stood.
Ilaria let out a relieved exhale as the last of the bodice loosened, leaving her in nothing but her chemise. Her shoulders eased, and the tension she had been carrying slipped away. For a heartbeat, she simply stood like that. Then she lifted her gaze to him, lashes fluttering as her breathing settled.
The air between them thickened, charged with something raw and new. The rustle of fabric, the rise and fall of their breaths, even the faint comfort of the room felt heavier. The familiar comfort of the chamber had shifted imperceptibly like a calm settling before a storm, though neither of them realized it yet.
