The palace had fallen into quietness.
Daphne sat by the window in their chamber, lost in thought, her hand resting absently on the curve of her belly.
She didn't turn when the door opened.
She didn't need to.
"I thought you'd still be in council," she murmured.
"I should be," Alaric's voice came, roughened by fatigue, "but I'd rather be here."
He crossed the room, stopping behind her chair.
For a moment, he simply looked at her, then he reached down, his fingers brushing lightly against her shoulder.
"You've been thinking again," he said quietly.
"Always," she answered with a small smile, leaning slightly into his touch. "It's difficult not to, when every answer we find only leads to another question."
He sighed and knelt beside her, resting his arms on her knees.
He stared. Like she was the only calm left in his world.
"Then stop searching for tonight," he said softly. "Just breathe, Princess."
