The evening had settled over the Citadel with a heavy, freezing quiet.
Outside, the wind rattled the stone window frames, but inside my room, the air was warm with the scent of cedar and the sharp, sweet juice of the berries I had spent the afternoon picking through.
Ashen was fast asleep by the fireplace, his tiny white chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. I was lounging on the chaise, pretending to read a book on Northern history, though my mind was far too active to focus on the text.
What was I thinking of, one might ask? Well…
A soft, hesitant knock came at the door. It wasn't the commanding thud of Alexander or the impatient rap of Julian. This was quiet. Almost pleading.
…It was about who among the four male interests currently in this building to knock on my door.
"Enter," I murmured.
