The faint light of dawn slipped through the window lattice and quietly spilled into the room.
A mist-thin layer of morning light cast soft, hazy shadows across the floor and the edge of the bed, revealing a scene so still that time seemed to have stopped.
The lingering warmth of last night's fireworks had yet to fade completely, like the final echoes of a dream.
Louis slowly opened his eyes.
He did not get up at once, but instinctively glanced beside him.
Sif lay quietly curled in his arms, her posture slightly cautious, yet betraying an unconscious dependence.
Her short, silver-white hair spilled across the pillow like a layer of frost settling silently on a snowy night.
Her features were peaceful, her pale cheeks tinged with the flush of sleep, her breathing warm and even.
She had said little last night. After the dance ended, she had simply stayed silently beside him, without a word.
Louis knew she had sensed his hesitation, his uncertainty, even his avoidance.
She was too clever not to know that the fireworks had not been prepared for her, or to misunderstand the casualness behind his invitation to dance.
Yet she had still smiled, still offered him her hand.
"Thank you for everything," he murmured, as though speaking both to her and to himself.
He slowly sat up, moving with utmost care, as though unwilling to disturb the girl sleeping in his arms.
He gently raised his right hand and swept his palm through the air.
With a soft hum, a translucent screen slowly unfolded before him, displaying the familiar ice-blue interface.
``` [Daily intelligence update complete]
[1: The Supreme Mage has decided to dispatch three Archmages and the elite Silver Mask Squad to the Northern Frontier of the Ironblood Empire to investigate the Insect Corpses