Author’s POV“Isyra?” Henry’s voice came again, softer this time, edged with concern as he moved closer to the bed.She let her lashes flutter before opening her eyes slowly, as if the effort cost her something. When she focused on him, relief bloomed across her face—gentle, grateful, carefully measured.“You’re back,” she murmured.“I stepped out to check on the preparations,” He crossed the room in a few strides and sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle her. His hand reached for hers, wrapping around her fingers. “Are you okay? You should have called for me.”Isyra gave a faint smile. “I didn’t want to bother you. You’ve been busy.”Henry frowned at that. “You’re never a bother.”She shifted slightly, as though finding a more comfortable position. The movement was small, restrained, designed to look weak. “Everything looks… lively out there,” she said, glancing toward the window. “The ball is really happening.”“It is,” Henry replied. “The pack needs it.”Isyra hummed so
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