Serena sat waiting on the stone bench for Darius. In contrast to Thornridge, the Hawthrone castle was lit and one would not stumble in darkness if their nose failed them. She swung her feet up and down idly, her heel tapping softly against the bench's edge as she watched Darius lead his horse into the stables.
Once the horse was tied at a post, the man took off the horse's saddle and walked to another corner of the room and placed it on a saddle pole. He dusted his hands on his tunic and emerged from the stable area.
Serena looked up as he approached. His features were bathed in soft shadows, the castle lanterns catching on the sharp lines of his jaw and the strands of hair brushing his forehead. It was a moonless night, and the quiet between them felt oddly sacred. The two stood staring at each other for a couple of seconds before Darius settled beside her on the bench.
