Aurelian looked back at Alaric, who was trembling with a fury so profound he could see his shoulders shaking.
"I didn't do anything, Brother," Aurelian said, his voice returning to its light, bored cadence. He shifted Julian's weight, allowing the Duke to practically rip the unconscious man from his arms. "But it seems Master Astrea is quite exhausted. A week of my company can be... taxing, I suppose."
He waved a dismissive hand toward the palace, the golden lion mask on his head catching the moonlight.
"Take him and rest in one of the wings," the Emperor commanded, his gaze lingering on the way Alaric's hands clutched the midnight-blue velvet. "The Jade Wing, if you may. I believe he is already quite familiar with the bed there."
Alaric didn't wait for another word. He held Julian to himself, pulling him against his chest with a crushing, protective strength as he carried him like an unfortunate bride.
