"Oh, I serve only the most beautiful queens," he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to her knuckles. Heat flared in her cheeks like sunrise.
When plates were cleared, the table sank back into the floor as seamlessly as it had risen. Rodion dimmed the lights. A plush blanket, warm from a hidden heating rune, floated over and draped itself across their laps. They sank onto the settee once more, closer than before, hips pressed together.
Mikhailis slipped an arm around her waist. She cuddled against him, heart fluttering at the quiet strength in his embrace. He whispered small nothings—praising the curl of her hair, teasing about her "regal movie-choosing talent." She answered with soft hums, tracing lazy symbols over his chest, feeling calm pulse back at her with every beat of his heart.
Time drifted. Outside, wind brushed the curtain fabric with a hushed rustle. Inside, peace reigned. Elowen's eyelids drooped; Mikhailis kissed her brow.
"Mikhailis… this is perfect," she breathed.
