The next morning, the pale northern light filtered softly through the frost-rimed window of the barracks room. Rowan blinked his eyes open, finding himself still securely enclosed within the thick, heavy winter blankets, completely surrounded by Kaelen's radiating warmth.
The knight's arm was still slung heavily over his waist, pinning him close, while Kaelen's deep, rhythmic breathing vibrated gently against his back.
Rowan lay perfectly still for a moment, his heart swelling with a deep, quiet happiness. His body ached thoroughly from the intense intimacy of the previous night, but it was a liberating, grounding sensation.
He desperately wanted to stay right there, buried in that safe, cedar-scented embrace for just a few moments longer, but as his mind cleared, the unshakeable resolve from the night before took hold. He couldn't fully claim this warmth while still wearing the invisible shackles of the capital.
