the Tale of Sir Isaac



They fell asleep tangled together, neither one willing to let the other one go for even a moment. When Summer woke, her heart ached looking on Isaac — how angelic he looked in the dawnlight, lashes lying curved on his pale cheek and curls disheveled about his head. Slowly she extricated herself from his hold, pulling on her dress as silently as she could, and crept out of the room.

He remained fast asleep then, exhausted from their activities and the grief they shared, even with the sunlight streaming in across his face and upper torso. He mumbled and turned over, not waking yet feeling horribly empty as she left his arms, an ache already forming inside him as he slept on.

Summer spent all day closeted with her new-found family as father and twin sister explained what would effectively be her new life. Winter was already engaged to a rich aristocrat from another neighboring kingdom, and she wished her bright twin to come home immediately to take part in the wedding.

It all seemed very exciting, but her heart ached for Isaac as well. Even at dinner, though they all gathered once again in the great hall, her family and their retainers surrounded her, keeping the two lovers apart, and there would be no time at all the next day. The Kentish folk would depart at dawn.

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