Morning arrived cautiously at the palace, as if the light itself were afraid to break the fragile, velvety silence left behind by the night. Sunbeams slowly crept up the heavy stone walls, glinted on the window glass, and finally reached the bed.Alexander was still beside me. He had not slept deeply; a kind of alert calm radiated from him, the way a wolf guards its den. When I shifted, he opened his eyes at once, but he did not attack me with questions, did not try to claim me immediately. He simply looked at me, and in his gaze lived every confession of the night before.I sat up slowly. I surprised myself. My body did not tense, did not search for the nearest exit. The memory of the night settled over me not as a burden, but like a warm, protective layer.“Good morning,” Alexander said, his voice carrying that deep, morning roughness that sent a shiver down my spine.“Good morning,” I replied, and smiled when I realized how natural those two words sounded between us.We did not rus
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