Aurora's POV
When the sobs finally began to fade, leaving me drained and trembling, my father gently shifted his hold.
“Come,” he whispered, not letting go. “Let me take you somewhere more comfortable.”
Still sniffling, I let him guide me to the sofa by the window—a plush, velvet thing that looked too regal to sit on. But he sat first, then pulled me gently down beside him. With a tenderness I never expected from a man like him, he eased me so that my head rested in his lap.
I didn’t resist. I couldn’t.
He brushed my hair back softly, his fingers running through the strands with a rhythm that lulled something inside me. His other hand rested lightly on my shoulder, grounding me.
“There you go,” he murmured, more to himself than to me. “My brave girl. You’ve held it for too long.”
I
