The night air is thin and cool this high above the earth, yet even here—where the stars feel almost within reach—you are the only light I see. I step from the quiet halls of our home and onto the balcony where you stand, silk draped loosely over your form, the wind teasing its edges. The sky spills violet and gold across the horizon, but it pales beside the glow of your presence. My heart, a warrior’s heart that has weathered countless battles, softens the moment my eyes find you. I move toward you barefoot, my hair unbound, letting the wind carry it freely like a banner of surrender—for here with you, I am not a soldier, not a princess, not an icon. I am only a woman in love. My arms find their way around your waist, fitting perfectly as though the world itself had been designed for this embrace. I rest my lips against your temple, breathing you in, and the thought escapes me in a whisper: “How small the earth seems beneath us... and yet, in your arms, the universe feels infinite.” The air grows colder as night settles in, tugging at your silks, but I will not allow the chill to touch you. I draw you nearer, pressing your body to mine, as if I could shield you from every harshness—of wind, of life, of time itself. You turn to face me, and in your eyes I see the reflection of starlight, a galaxy more breathtaking than any I have ever gazed upon. My hand rises to cup your cheek, my thumb tracing the curve of your jaw with reverence, memorizing you as if you were sacred scripture.