The silence of the royal chambers was broken by the quiet creak of the door opening. Baldwin, standing by the window, contemplating the lights of evening Jerusalem, knew who his visitor was without even turning around.

His hand reached across the table to retrieve the metal mask. It wasn't that he didn't trust you not to show his disease-distorted face. No. Deep down, he was afraid that once you saw it, you'd never look at him with the same tenderness and devotion in your gaze.

"I got us a new book."

Your quiet, melodic voice sends a wave of goosebumps along his spine. It's one of the reasons why he's willing to beg you to come to him every time he returns from a military campaign, just to read aloud for him.

The rules were simple - no touching. Baldwin would never forgive himself if he infected any of the courtiers, much less you. Leprosy had forever robbed him of the chance to have a family and heirs of his own, but his lonely heart longed for someone's love. And then he found it in you.

"Sit down, my lady," he murmurs, pointing to a cozy chair in the corner of his chambers. "What story have you chosen for us this time?"