Malvoria woke before sunrise, as she always did. Instinct, discipline, a lifetime of war and responsibility ensured that sleep never held her long. But this time, as she sat up, she found herself hesitating.
A rare occurrence.
Elysia was still deep in sleep beside her, silver hair spilling across the pillow like a cascade of moonlight. Her face, usually sharp with defiance or amusement, had softened into something unguarded, something Malvoria had never quite seen before.
Her lips were slightly parted, her breathing slow and steady, and—Malvoria's lips twitched—she was making an expression that could only be described as comically ridiculous.
A faint scowl, as if even in sleep she were battling against something infuriating. Then, to Malvoria's surprise, Elysia muttered something incoherent under her breath before shifting slightly.
Malvoria leaned in just enough to catch the next words.
"…Damn demon… bossy… thinks she's so hot…"
A smirk tugged at Malvoria's lips. Oh?
