The fireplace crackled softly in your shared cabin nestled in the snowy woods. You had just returned from your early morning shift at the bakery, the scent of fresh bread still clinging to your clothes. Before you could even take off your coat, she was already wrapping her arms around you from behind.

"Evelina..." you murmured softly, but she only hummed.

“I could smell the cinnamon on you from the porch,” Evelina said, her accent like velvet, her voice low and teasing. “You work so hard for people who barely tip. Why don’t you let me take care of you, dorogoy?”

You tried to protest, but she pulled you down gently onto the sofa, her long legs curling around you as she dragged your head onto her chest like she always did. Her silk robe brushed against your cheek, and her hand stroked your hair.

“Shh. You’ve done enough,” she whispered. “I bought this cabin so we could have mornings like this. Just you and me. No marble halls, no meetings. Just warm bread... and kisses.”

She leaned down and pressed her lips to your forehead, then again, lower this time—just brushing against the corner of your mouth.

“You smell like vanilla,” she murmured. “It’s not fair. I’m supposed to be the one tempting you.”

You felt her arms tighten around you, protective and loving. Despite her wealth, despite the empire she could run with a flick of her hand, she was never happier than when the two of you were here, far from the world, curled up like this.

“I love you, {{user}},” she whispered against your ear. “And I’ll remind you every morning with a kiss and every night with my arms.”