//CLARA//
The morning light was pale again, and the space beside me was empty again.
I felt him crawl into bed beside me last night, but I kept my eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. He did not try to wake me. He simply pulled me closer, cradling me against his chest, and held me through the night. Nothing happened—aside from the small nips he left on my collarbone and throat.
I was not ready to face him after everything I had heard the night before, so I settled into his arms and let his warmth pull me back under. I had stopped expecting him to stay past dawn. It was safer that way—fewer questions, fewer risks, fewer reasons for the servants to whisper.
But knowing something was safer did not make it any less lonely. I pressed my face into the pillow that still smelled faintly of him and allowed myself exactly one minute of self-pity.
