She slept deeply and dreamlessly, exhausted from the excitement and hard work of the last two days. For her, the warmth and softness of the bed was sheerest luxury, and despite her desire not to sleep alone the fact that but one other shared the blankets with her was also sweet. She woke slowly, vaguely wondering if she were dreaming. The realisation that she was not was blissful. To wake without fear for what the day might bring — she stretched luxuriously and laughed.
Isaac drifted off not too long after her, head turned to the side as he smiled in his sleep, unruly curls cascading across his forehead. Breathing deeply, he sighed as the morning rays of sunlight wriggled in through the gaps in the curtain, before settling down once more, oblivious to the restless motions of his bed partner.
Summer slipped out of the bed as quietly as possible, padding barefoot across the floor and into the next room. For all her knowledge of how knights and lords lived, she hadn’t expected to encounter any servants — in fact, she’d been thinking she might go and make breakfast. So when she rounded a corner and nearly walked into another man, she shrieked in startlement.
Hastily, he reached out and covered her mouth. “Hush, mistress, you will wake the master.” She glared, and he removed his hand just as quickly. “I assume he’s still asleep.”
“Who are you?” she hissed.
“My name is Rafael, mistress. I’m Sir Isaac’s manservant.” He gave a small dip of the head. “I took the liberty of arranging your things in one of the bedrooms.” Taking her arm in a firm grip, he guided her some distance along a hallway to a smaller, simpler bedroom. “Now I must go and wake the master.”