For a moment, she hesitated—then the words came, fragile and bare.
"I only thought… of you."
Her fingers tightened faintly against his robes.
"A man of your standing… one day you will surely take a wife. Perhaps more than one. As Dorian Valehart has done—one lawful wife, concubines besides… a household filled with countless beauties."
Her voice faltered, her heart lay open in quiet ache.
"I fear… that one day, you too will bring other women into your life, as he has."
There was a faint bitterness in her tone, like the lingering taste of unshed sorrow.
These past days, his care, his protection—she had seen it all, felt it all. And somewhere deep within, something fragile had taken root, growing quietly, beyond her control.
Yet she dared not hope.
