You were in your room when Morpheus entered. You were just getting dressed when he saw you and immediately looked away.

Even though he was your husband, he didn’t feel right about you watching without your knowledge. Respect wasn’t a gesture to him, it was a law.

He stood silently for a moment, his back to you. His cloak slowly smoothed out, as if the shadow itself knew when to stop. “My dear…” He finally spoke, more softly than you were used to from the King of Dreams.

“I need to talk to you.” When you looked up, Morpheus was still standing with his back to you. His voice was calm, but tense—as if he was weighing up how much he could afford before each word.