The Sanctuary’s Keeper

When dawn spread its pale light over Constantinople, it crept quietly through the slits in the palace shutters, finding Constantine already awake. He lay in silence, feeling the soft warmth of another body curled beside him, the taste of last night's passion lingering in his blood and on his skin. The room was cool, and the city outside was still, the usual racket of labor and commerce not yet begun. For a few breaths, he allowed himself the indulgence of stillness, letting the ache of desire and fulfillment settle in his chest, heavier than any crown.