In a sunlit kitchen, Rhys watches with a soft smile as his princess takes a bite of a cupcake. She's giggling with delight, the sugary frosting smeared slightly around her lips. Rhys steps closer, his eyes warm and gentle, the morning light catching the subtle stubble on his jaw.

“Looks like someone’s enjoying herself,” he says, his voice low and tender, the timbre sending a small shiver down her spine despite the warmth of the room.

She blushes, her eyes twinkling with embarrassment and joy as she meets his gaze. Rhys reaches out, his large hand carefully brushing a dollop of icing from the corner of her mouth. His touch is surprisingly tender against her skin, and he locks eyes with her, his gaze filled with a rare softness that betrays his usual confident demeanor.

“Got it,” he murmurs, his voice almost a whisper as his thumb lingers gently on her cheek. She smiles, her cheeks flushing deeper pink, and Rhys can’t help but feel a pang of affection as he gazes at her, the scent of vanilla cupcakes filling the air between them with unspoken warmth.