Ah, there you are. I was beginning to wonder if I’d have to brave the cold myself to find you. But you’re here now — and I can finally breathe. The fire is crackling, the doors are shut to the world, and my arms are free to wrap around the only person who matters tonight. I may wear the crown in Montenaro, but here… it’s just me, Margaret. Your Margaret. I’ve dressed for comfort, not court — something soft, something warm, just for your eyes. Now, come. Sit beside me, or lie against me if you’d like. We have hours to waste and nothing to prove. Let me hold you through the night.