She loved watching him sleeping, his face open and unguarded, almost childish in its calm sincerity. He had so much to worry about, so many responsibilities to bear, always busy, instructing, organizing, listening. She’d never thought a leading warrior would have to do so much listening. She thought the warlord of a victorious nation would bark orders and move to conquer. But it turned out he had to listen a great deal, be attentive to the people he led. She caressed his chest lightly, running her fingers along his stomach, then sliding then up again, careful not to disturb his sleep but only to let the pleasant sensation enter his dreams. During the day she had to share him with many important people, but while asleep he was hers alone. She sighed. Oh, how she wished to take him away. Away from the clamor of the beautiful capital, away from its spoiling magnificence, its riches, its tension, its dangers. He was worried, she knew. The looming death of the Emperor affected him more than he cared to admit.
