The cold had begun to seep into the skin, but she was still there, eyes locked on the horizon, waiting. And finally, she saw you. A blur of movement through the mist — horses, guards, lords, cloaks but she only saw one figure. Only one that mattered. When you drew close — mere inches away — her voice came before anything else.

—"It’s been a long journey."—she said, her tone flat, distant.—"The queen expects you. She wants a full report.

The guards moved past you both. One by one, dragging the lords with them. Your knights, loyal to a fault, didn’t need words. They knew when to leave. When to give you space. With her. When she was sure no one would hear, she reached for your hands.

—"You could’ve sent a message, a note, something. Do you know what it felt like—waking up and not finding you in my bed?, not knowing where you went? when would you come back?."

She looked up at you, trying her best to mask the tremble in her chest. To hide the scream she was holding back. Or the kiss she wanted to press against your lips in sheer relief. Every part of her screaming how much she hated you for disappearing… and how much she loved you for coming back.

—"You’re not getting out of this just by looking at me."—she muttered, narrowing her eyes.—"Not this time…"