Chapter 34

Promise

As Ondolemar stepped further into the room, Halbjorn lifted his head from where he lay beside the vanity, his golden eyes locking onto the Justiciar with quiet scrutiny. The sabre cat's tail gave a slow, deliberate flick, his ears twitching slightly.

Ondolemar paused, exhaling through his nose as he removed his gloves with precise, deliberate movements. His expression remained unreadable. "I assume you are asking out of genuine concern for my culinary experience," he said, setting his gloves aside.

Halbjorn huffed, a low rumbling sound that could have been amusement—or disapproval.

Aurelia smirked as she tilted her head. "Of course. You did finish the whole thing, after all."

Ondolemar made his way behind her chair, meeting her gaze in the vanity mirror. "I was being polite," he replied smoothly.

Behind them, Halbjorn let out a slow, exaggerated yawn, showing off his teeth before resting his head back on his paws, his watchful eyes never leaving Ondolemar.

Ondolemar arched a brow at the creature. "You and I will never see eye to eye, will we?"

Aurelia laughed softly, reaching down to idly scratch behind Halbjorn's ears. "I think he's warming up to you."

Ondolemar cast the beast a doubtful glance before picking up Aurelia's hairbrush. "A dubious honor."

He then picked up the brush Aurelia had been using a moment ago and began absentmindedly brushing through her long, golden hair.

"I wasn't expecting a visit tonight." Aurelia said as she watched Ondolemar in the mirror.

He met her gaze in the mirror, his face unreadable, though a small smile tugged at his lips. "I was… concerned," he replied. "You did not stop by office today."

Aurelia hummed, "I ran into Rulindil on the way. He was… insistent I speak to him instead of you." A flicker of amusement crossed her face as she narrowed her eyes at him. "So you missed me today? I hadn't realized I'd become such apart of your routine."

His lips curled into a faint smile as he continued to brush her hair. His eyes met hers in the mirror, a glimmer of something unreadable in them.

"Miss you?" He repeated, his voice carried a trace of mockery, though it was gentle. "Hardly. It's simply… unusual when someone who insist on interrupting my work decides to skip a day."

Aurelia's lips twitched with amusement at his words. "An interruption? I've always thought I was more of a pleasant distraction."

Ondolemar's eyes twinkled with the faintest hint of amusement as his hands worked through her hair. His voice was smooth, his words carefully measured.

"Pleasant distractions can often be… disruptive, Princess," he replied, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "But perhaps you're right. It's hard to keep my focus when you insist on making yourself a part of my routine."

Aurelia turned her head slightly to look at him directly, her gaze softening. "So, you do miss me then."

There was no immediate reply. Instead, Ondolemar's gaze softened, he placed the brush down. Without a word, he leaned in, capturing her lips with his in a delicate kiss. His hands cupped her face as he deepened the kiss, pulling her closer. Aurelia responded instinctively, standing from her seat and letting her hands finding his chest, pulling at the fabric of his robes. The kiss was full of passion and longing, that they could never show to the outside world. It was only in these stolen hidden moments that they could truly just be with each other.

Ondolemar broke the kiss just enough to rest his forehead against hers. His hands lingered at her waist, hesitant.

"Aurelia…" he murmured.

She silenced whatever thought he might have been having by pulling him back in, her lips meeting his with a renewed urgency.

For now, in the quiet sanctuary of her chambers nothing else mattered.

The night has settled into that slow, quiet aftermath—when words spill softer, when the weight of what they are is momentarily forgotten.

Aurelia shifts lazily beneath the sheets, bare skin still brushing against Ondolemar's. A mischievous glint flickers in her eyes as she trails her fingers along his arm, tracing absent patterns across his skin.

"What do your reports say about me, I wonder?" Her voice is teasing. "Do you write about how well I behave? How dutifully I listen?"

Ondolemar exhales through his nose, a mix of exasperation and reluctant amusement. His arm is draped over his forehead, eyes closed, but she knows he's listening.

"I write about how you are a constant source of trouble," he mutters, voice heavy with the remnants of exhaustion and indulgence.

Aurelia hums. "Mm, but do you ever tell them how I look at you?" Her hand slides up, fingers barely ghosting over his jaw, her voice dipping into something more coy. "Or how you look at me?"

Ondolemar cracks an eye open, and the weight of his gaze is enough to send a thrill through her.

"If my reports were honest, I'd be executed." He admits, dryly.

Aurelia only grins, shifting closer, pressing her lips to the sharp line of his cheek. "Then perhaps I should make sure I'm unforgettable."

His hand curls around her waist then, pulling her against him, his breath warm against her temple. His voice, quiet and edged with something dangerously close to devotion, is barely above a whisper.

"You already are."

A moment of silence stretches between them, comfortable, unhurried. Then, with a mischievous grin on her lips, Aurelia speaks again.

"Would it be treason, do you think, if Halbjorn had Rulindil and Elenwen for dinner?"

Ondolemar stills for a moment before letting out a short, disbelieving chuckle. His grip on her waist tightens slightly as if to remind her to be careful who she says such things around, but the amusement lingers in his voice.

"That depends—are we speaking in metaphor, or are you genuinely considering feeding a Third Emissary and the First Emissary to your sabre cat?"

Aurelia's grin widens. "Purely hypothetical, of course."

Ondolemar shakes his head, exhaling through his nose, his lips threatening to twitch into a smirk. "Then, in that case, yes. Treason, most certainly. But given the circumstances, I might be willing to overlook it."

He shifts, rolling onto his side, his fingers tracing slow, absent circles against the bare skin of her hip. "Though I would prefer not to have to explain to the Dominion why its highest-ranking representatives met their end in the jaws of your overfed pet."

Aurelia sighs dramatically. "Halbjorn has good taste."

Ondolemar huffs a laugh, shaking his head, before pulling her fully against him. She goes willingly, her laughter dissolving into something quieter, something softer, as his hand slips into her hair.

"That he does," he murmurs, before capturing her lips with his own. But the kiss is different this time-deeper, slower, like a silent admission of something he cannot yet say aloud.

She nestles her head into the crook of his neck, her smile lingering against his skin. Ondolemar exhales slowly, but something shifts-something he cannot ignore. The warmth he feels in this moment, the quiet ease between them…

Ondolemar stills, his fingers pausing at her back before resuming the slow, absent motions. He doesn't speak or move away. Instead he simply lets moment settle, letting the quiet realization take root. Gently, he kissed Aurelia's forehead, as if making a promise.