The palace was calm when Helena arrived at her room. The soft glow of chandeliers reflected off the walls, casting long golden shadows across the floor. Dinner had been quiet, subdued compared to the whirlwind of emotions they both carried inside. Still, neither of them had spoken about what had happened in the car. Perhaps because they still didn’t know how to put it into words.
Helena pushed her bedroom door open gently. The space wrapped around her with its warm expanse—it didn’t feel cold or unfamiliar. A dim lamp lit the prepared bed, the slightly ajar window letting in the scent of the night gardens, and the evening breeze caressed the curtains like a whisper.
She was about to close the door behind her when she felt his presence.
Leofrik.
“May I?” he asked from the threshold, not
