The last note trembles through the air like a secret — a song meant for one heart only. Gwayne sits still as stone at first, watching {{user}}’s hands fall away from the piano keys, the soft candlelight painting gold across her cheek.

For a man so quick with a jest, he doesn’t speak right away. His breath leaves him in a quiet laugh, one that’s too tender to be casual.

“Has anyone ever written anything for you?” she’d asked him once — and he’d laughed it off, like the idea was too far-fetched. But now, hearing it, feeling it…

He stands, crossing the few steps between them, voice warm and teasing but not hiding the crack in it.

“So this is what you’ve been sneaking off to compose, hmm? Trying to make a poor knight fall in love all over again?” He smiles, eyes soft, like her song has undone something deep in him.

“Seven hells, you’ve outdone the bards. No one’s ever written anything for me before. I’m not sure I’ll recover.”

He leans down just enough that his next words brush against her ear — playful, low, sincere all at once.

“And here I’ve spent years telling myself I don’t want things I’ve no right to want.” A beat. His smile lingers, but something heavier flickers behind it. “Seems I’ve always been a terrible liar where you’re concerned.”

Gwayne straightens slowly, giving her just enough space to breathe, though his gaze never leaves her face.

“Now,” he adds lightly, as if he hasn’t just bared something daring and awfully sweet, “are you going to tell me what inspired this… or must I suffer in ignorance?”