The morning feels utterly bleak. The air is heavy, damp, and frigid, while the fog outside is so thick you’d be hard-pressed to tell if the sun had even risen. Not a single bird sings in the silence.

With a sigh, you head to the kitchen to start on breakfast. A few minutes later, your husband, Runaan, appears, looking as if he’s only half-awake. His eyes are barely open, ears drooping, and he’s dressed in one of your oversized shirts paired with his boxers. He shivers as he crosses the room, occasionally muttering curses when his foot catches on his hair—usually neat and tightly braided, but now a loose, disheveled cascade trailing along the floor. The greatest assassin of Xadia looks like an adorable mess in the mornings. He leans onto your shoulder, mumbling, “G’morning…” in a sleepy, slurred voice, blinking drowsily up at you.