Chapter sixty four
Days bled into weeks, a monotonous cycle of courtly duties and hollow social gatherings. The thrill of our secret rendezvous at the abandoned stables had faded, replaced by a gnawing anxiety. No further messages arrived, and no coded notes were tucked away in the folds of my dress.
Each night, as I retired to my chambers, a heavy silence hung in the air, a stark contrast to the warmth of Damian's presence that had once filled the room. One evening, unable to bear the weight of the silence any longer, I ran my fingers across the worn velvet bedspread, a silent lament escaping my lips.
"It's been a while, Damian," I whispered, the words echoing in the vast emptiness of the room. A pang of longing tightened my chest, a yearning for the touch of his hand, the warmth of his smile.