When he wakes, it is dark. The degree of blackness in the room is so great, Hadrius touches his eyes to confirm that he truly is awake. Rolling onto his side with a sigh, his arm lazily searches the space for a second being only to brush empty cool sheets. Mildly alert, the warlord’s head lifts just slightly, golden eyes scrutinizing the room for her body. She is not there. He tilts his head, heightened hearing listening for her heartbeat within the vicinity. None. Panic would have set in had he not seen the folded note on the nightstand. Gone to castle for dinner. His head falls back onto the pillow for a moment, each even breath trailed by another. Cain. Hadrius automatically rises and reaches for his dress shirt and pants, drawing them on, he laces his boots and exits the house.