I thought it was a dream...

The morning light filtered through the soft curtains, gilding everything with a warm, silent glow—as if time had stopped to respect what had happened there. 

Strax lay on his side, his fingers slowly running through Evelyn's silver hair, as if weaving memories between the strands. She slept — or pretended to sleep — her face hidden against his bare chest, her arms wrapped around his waist as if, by letting go, something precious might escape. 

She was completely naked, wrapped only in the light linen sheets and the security of Strax's body. But there was no shame. No hurry. There was peace—that rare kind that can only be found after a long time of war. 

The silence between them was comfortable, full of presence. He watched the ancient stone ceiling, the shadows dancing across its curves, and felt, there in his arms, the warmth of a mutual choice. Not something forced by fate, but decided at the right time.