When Azrael and Sevastian returned to the mansion, the night had already settled in. The King made his way to his chamber, finding Elysia peacefully asleep. After quickly freshening up, he slipped into bed beside her. The moment his hand brushed her, she stirred, rubbing her eyes as they adjusted to his familiar form.
"You are back?" she murmured softly.
"Yes, love, I am," he replied, pulling her close so her head rested on his chest. His hand traced soothing patterns on her arm. "How was your day?" he asked gently.
"Incredibly boring. The bailiff has no romance novels, and I was forced to read about wars," Elysia whined, her lips pouting in frustration. Her complaint made Azrael chuckle, the deep sound reverberating through his chest.
"That does sound tragic. Forgive me for leaving you to such misery," he teased, stroking her arm.