Three days passed quietly.
The good kind of quietly. The kind that settles between two people who have said enough true things to each other that the silence no longer needs filling. Aurora moved through the mansion with a lightness she had not felt since arriving and Damian moved through it differently too, less like a man patrolling the borders of something and more like a man who had decided to simply exist inside it for a while.
They had breakfast together every morning.
Not formally. Not at the long dining table with the full spread the kitchen staff prepared. In the kitchen itself, at the small island, with toast and coffee and the morning news playing low on the counter screen. Damian read things on his phone and Aurora read her book and occasionally one of them said something an
