Cressida gnced around them quickly, noting the absence of aides or security in the lounging area. The soft hum of distant voices barely reached them through the closed doors. With a confident sweep of movement, she stood up from her pce on the floor and perched herself delicately on the armrest beside Adeline.

  She leaned in.

  Her perfume was familiar — expensive, heady, and nostalgic. Without a word, she brought her lips to Adeline’s in a soft kiss, the same kiss they had exchanged more times than either would publicly admit. For Cressida, it was a familiar spark. For Adeline, it was a memory she had already set aside.

  Adeline didn’t pull away at once. She smiled faintly against the touch, the kind of smile one gives when greeting an old friend they’ve outgrown. And then she pulled back, gently but firmly, her gaze calm and unreadable as she looked up at the redhead.

  “Don’t you think this is inappropriate?” she asked softly.

  Cressida blinked. Her shes fluttered, caught off guard for the briefest second, but she pushed past the pause and smiled, brushing it off.

  Taking both of Adeline’s hands in her own, she squeezed them earnestly. “I’m just… happy to see that you’re safe. You sacrificed your safety for all of us. You should be resting, Adeline. You nearly—”

  “My duty,” Adeline interrupted, her tone warm yet firm, “isn’t something I can set aside. Not for rest. Not for comfort. Not even for affection.”

  She looked at Cressida steadily.

  “As President, my responsibility to this country comes first. But I’ve also realised something else… That duty doesn’t stop with state affairs.”

  Cressida tilted her head, eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

  “There are people,” Adeline continued, voice gentler now, “who rely on me in more personal ways. People I’ve hurt by not showing up. People who give without asking anything in return. Who aren’t drawn to power or titles… but to me, simply as I am.”

  She wasn’t naming Tess, but the gravity of her words lingered in the air like a scent that couldn’t be ignored.

  “I can’t take that lightly anymore. That… is a duty I must honour too.”

  Cressida’s fingers tensed around hers.

  There was a flicker of something in her expression, uncertainty? Jealousy? The dawning realisation that perhaps, this time, Adeline truly meant to keep someone.

  But Adeline just smiled again, steady and polite, her hand slipping free as she reached for her documents.

  “Now,” she said, resuming her composure like she’d never faltered, “I do believe there are still a few matters of state to go through. You’re welcome to stay… as long as you don’t cause a scene.”

  Two hours ter, Adeline was on the verge of snapping, though, as always, she wore her composure like silk. Externally calm, internally exhausted.

  Cressida had not left.

  In fact, she’d become more involved.

  She had somehow massaged Adeline’s shoulders while simultaneously reading out reports on agricultural subsidies. She had knelt at her feet, giving them a firm but oddly sensual rub while smiling up at her like a devoted pet. She had brewed tea twice with unnecessary commentary about how she learned it during their “second dinner together.” She had fed Adeline a grape. A. Single. Grape.

  Adeline hadn’t had a moment of peace, let alone an uninterrupted thought.

  The Cressida she once knew had been charming, ambient, rexing. But now? She was noise. Clinging. Distracting noise. And Adeline’s patience had frayed to a delicate, dangerous thread.

  “I’m just going to the toilet,” Adeline announced suddenly, standing up and brushing imaginary crumbs off her p.

  Cressida stood too quickly. “Should I come with—?”

  Adeline turned with a deadpan stare. “To poop.”

  Cressida blinked. “Ah…”

  That gave her pause. Exactly what Adeline had hoped for.

  Without another word, Adeline left the room with quick, composed urgency, her heels clicking with uncharacteristic purpose down the corridor. Her pace increased with every step as she passed staff, corners, and cameras, until she reached Martin’s door. A breathless gnce over her shoulder, no redhead in sight, and she slipped inside, shutting the door behind her with a soft but urgent thud.

  She leaned back against the door, chest rising and falling as if she’d just escaped a prison of silk and perfume. Her fingers clutched the handle, eyes closed, soaking in the solitude like sunlight—

  Until she heard a faint crunch.

  Her eyes opened slowly.

  Sitting in the corner of the room, cross-legged on the chair, zily eating from a bowl of fruit, was the very woman she hadn’t stopped thinking about for days.

  Tess.

  Wearing Martin’s shirt, looking like a sin in soft daylight, legs bare, expression mischievous.

  She held up a slice of pear and smiled. “You look like you actually ran here.”

  Adeline blinked once.

  Then again.

  “…You’re here?” she said, breath still catching on the edge of disbelief, of joy, of something far too tender to say aloud just yet.

  Tess took a bite, grinning. “Under your roof the whole time, Madam President. And you didn’t even sense the intruder.”

  Adeline stared.

  Then, slowly, the edge of her lips curved and for the first time in hours, her breath truly rexed.

  She was here.

  Adeline remained at the door, unmoving, while Tess zily popped a grape into her mouth and chewed like she hadn’t just shattered the President’s emotional restraint with her presence alone.

  “You look like you just barely survived a diplomatic crisis,” Tess teased, tilting her head. “Did the prime minister colpse again, or…” Her gaze narrowed in pyful suspicion. “Did you run all the way here for me?”

  Adeline blinked slowly. Her lips parted like she had words lined up, but none of them seemed right. So instead, she said the simplest thing on her mind.

  “I’ve had… a morning.”

  Tess raised a brow. “That bad?”

  “Let’s just say someone massaged my feet and wouldn’t stop talking about our third official dinner together… which wasn’t actually a date, but she apparently thought it was.”

  Tess froze mid-bite.

  Adeline finally moved, walking toward the window near her, putting distance between herself and the door, and intentionally decreasing the one between her and Tess. Her voice was quiet when she added, “You weren’t there.”

  Tess swallowed slowly. The teasing spark faded a little from her eyes as she set the fruit bowl on the nearby table. “I know.”

  Adeline looked out the window, arms crossed, heart steeled. “You didn’t call. You didn’t text. I thought…”

  “I know,” Tess cut in, her voice softer now, guilty. “I saw your messages that night. I even saw the pizza box sitting on my doorstep. Cold.”

  Adeline gnced over her shoulder at her, but didn’t speak.

  Tess exhaled and stood from the chair, barefoot, walking over to her but keeping a respectful distance. “I messed up. I didn’t know what I wanted anymore. I kept telling myself it was just a fling — we were just… testing waters.

  She smiled sadly. “Turns out, I can’t.”

  Adeline turned to face her fully.

  “I missed our date,” Tess continued, “because I got scared. And then I stayed away because I realised…” Her voice cracked just faintly, but she pushed on, eyes locked on Adeline’s. “I realised I didn’t want anyone else. Not ever again. Just you.”

  Adeline’s lips parted, but still, she didn’t speak.

  “I’m sorry for hurting you,” Tess whispered, taking a small step forward. “I won’t ask for anything unless you’re willing. But I had to tell you. I’m in love with you, Adeline. And if you’ll have me…” Her voice dropped to something more fragile than Adeline had ever heard from her. “I want to belong to you.”

  The words hung in the air, heavier than the state documents Adeline had ignored all morning.

  Adeline stepped closer now, closing the final gap. She lifted her hand, brushing a thumb gently along Tess’s cheek.

  “You left me waiting with wine and a camera open, you know,” she murmured.

  Tess winced. “I’ll spend the rest of my life making that up to you if you let me.”

  Adeline smiled faintly, her hand now cupping Tess’s jaw.

  “No more running?”

  “No more games.”

  Adeline leaned in close enough to whisper against her lips, “Then start by giving me another grape. And after that…” Her smile deepened. “You’re not allowed to leave my sight.”

  Tess grinned through the emotion building in her chest. “Does that include naked lounging or just political events?”

  “Everything,” Adeline whispered, and kissed her—soft, unhurried, and absolutely certain.