The tower room had no windows, and the maidservant who came to poke up the fire for morning tiptoed in and out with extreme care, on the orders of the chamberlain. No one was to disturb the pair, on pain of … well, pain. The chamberlain’s threat was rather indeterminate — not that anyone in the household wished to disagree with his point.
It was quite late in the morning, then, when Summer woke, arms still clasped tight about Isaac. She spent a little time simply watching him sleep. It was just as she remembered, he softened in sleep, seeming almost childlike in his relaxation. Lightly, she stroked his face, fingertips tracing his mouth.
Hours passed and he slept on deeply, comforted by her proximity as they tangled and pressed up against one another, and it was clear that if one of them moved too much, the other would awaken instantly. As morning finally rolled around, he was now sprawled out on his stomach, unruly curls fanning out around his head, limbs twitching as he remained buried in a dream, a smile upon his face.
Moving slowly and keeping as much warmth under the piles of covers as she could, she draped herself over his back, lips pressing against the nape of his neck. She could feel his heartbeat, pacing with hers, and tangled the fingers of one hand in his hair before starting to leave kisses down his spine.