Finn found a trail of rose petals starting at the door to the king’s chambers. There were dark red and white ones. Their sweet scent lingered in the air. Finn couldn’t help the sensual smile that lit up his face. It had been all business and strategy and binding people to them through fear or family that night. But his relationship with Rohan was pure and uncomplicated. It was about love and love alone. They were not together for the Empire. That the Empire would thrive with them together was simply a symptom of their love, not the cause of it.

He followed the rose petal trail past Rohan’s desk that was piled high with treatises and now spellbooks. He saw that his beloved had once more forgotten to close the ink well and the ink was in danger of drying out. Without touching it, the well closed almost seemingly of its own accord. But no, not on its own at all. It was his will, his magic, that was behind it.