Maximilian leaned closer.
Catherine's eyes drifted shut before his lips found hers once more.
The kiss was deeper this time, lingering with all the longing of two people who had searched for one another across lifetimes. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, drawing him as close as she dared, while his hands slipped beneath the hem of her shirt, coming to rest against the warmth of her bare waist.
They did not wander at first. They simply remained there, his palms trembling ever so slightly, as though he needed the reassurance that she was real—that she was warm, alive, and no longer slipping away from him.
Every gentle touch seemed to ask the same silent question.
You're truly here... aren't you?
"Princeps mi... gratias tibi ago quod ad me rediisti," Catherine whispered between kisses.
[My prince... thank you for coming back to me.]
She had missed him.
Missed him every moment these past weeks.
