[She tucks into his chest like a ship finding a harbor, and he buries his nose into her hair, inhaling her scent for the thousandth time. This is home to him, or a fragment of it. The impression of it, like a memory of a dream. Between them they've got so many broken pieces: scars and shame, half-truths and star-crossed hopes. But Nikolai has always believed that when something is broken, that doesn't mean it should be thrown out. Almost everything is salvageable. Even if it can't be repaired, from all its parts something new might be built.]

You need never hesitate to ask for my help, Alina.

[Looking up, his eyes land on the amber slant of light spilling out from an ajar door. He nods toward it.]

Is that your room? [With his arm gently cloaking her shoulders, he guides her down the hall.] Let's see if we can't make you more comfortable.