Vireya's POV
After we both showered, we returned to the kitchen to find grilled chicken waiting for us,perfectly warm, tender, and seasoned with spices I couldn’t even name. Perhaps magic had prepared it, or perhaps the cottage simply knew our hunger before we did.
Either way, we sat at the little dining table and ate together, laughing in a way we hadn’t for so long, full-bodied, head-thrown-back laughter, as if the forest had peeled the weight from our souls.
Night had fallen softly, but the darkness didn’t feel heavy. The cottage lit up with floating lanterns that hovered like golden fireflies, casting a warm glow across the wooden beams and stone floor.
By the time we retreated to bed, the lanterns dimmed on their own, responding to the silence of the hour, their light soft and low. The whole room seemed to hum in a slow lullaby, inviting sleep.
We sank into the bed, silken, soft, like lying in a field of clouds. Our lips found each other with an aching need, our bodies tangli
