He hums, pulling the blankets up over the two of them and he wraps his arms around her waist, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “Don’t thank me.”
“Why not?” Her voice is drowsy, cuddling into his hold. She makes a face when she remembers she’s half-in and half-out of her dress, and struggles upright to finish taking it off. Naked, she settles back down and nestles back into Mordred’s arms. “It was very nice. I hope,” a yawn, “I will get better with time.”