The shadows shifting through the glass eventually brought her head up, seeking out his eyes in the falling dusk. At the edge of the glass room, a servant fixed a torch to the wall by the entrance. “Will you dine with me, my lord?” Summer asked softly, a slight smile on her mouth, remembering their first meeting. She was sure he would object, as usual, to the term she insisted on using.
“Of course I will, My Lady.” Isaac chuckled softly, although the slight twitch to his nose betrayed his discomfort over that term, but he would eagerly play along with her if it made her smile. He held out his hand for her to take, palm upturned as he teasingly wriggled his fingers, back straight as he cast her an encouraging smile, head tilting just a little bit to the side.
She held her head high, pretending to be arrogant, and placed her fingertips in his palm. “Shall we be great nobles?” she murmured, eyes twinkling with a mischievous light long missing.