Inside, warm lamplight softened carved beams, banishing the martial chili that ruled the courtyard.
The room breathed of incense and quiet heartbeat instead of drawn blades.
Rania‘s first sobs had dried; rose flush returned to her cheeks as she drifted in the safety of Jared's arm.
The earlier terror already read like a distant rumor to her. To her mind Julian's retreat proved everything, fathers, like storms, growl and pass. Love, she believed, had won its first skirmish. That conviction brightened her smile until it hurt to look at directly.
Rania lifted her head, voice low, "Jared, don't be scared. With me here, Father won‘t truly harm you."
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