Wren laughed and punched his shoulder, using it as an excuse to snuggle closer against him. Lucas’s reassuring presence soothed her nerves—the rosemary scent of him, the strong solid feel of the muscles of his arm beneath the soft wool of his suit. “I won’t let anything happen to you in there,” he murmured against her hair. “I won’t leave your side. I’ll be like a leech.” She laughed. “You speak such sweet poetry to me, Prince Imbris.”
no comment. beautiful moments must be left to be
