Only a brief twitch of the mouth betrayed Edward’s response to Isaac’s description of Summer. Much more gently, he said, “There’s nothing more to be done at the moment. The wedding won’t take place for a month, and the dispersal of the knights participating in the tournament will do enough to protect the lands.
“Go back to her. Make her smile again, and again, and again. I will send for you when I need you.”
“I might not come straightaway, Sir. After all, my duty is to my wife-to-be, not you, I’m afraid. As long as you give me plenty of warning, I should be along as quick as I can,” Sir Isaac stated with the merest of twitches to his lips, straightening up as he nodded his goodbyes, then stepping out of the room to return to the side of his beloved Summer once again.
A muffled noise that might have been shocked laughter emanated from the room behind him. The guard — the same guard, in fact — guided him not to the tower Summer had immured herself in before, but to a fantastic, glass room built out into the castle courtyard. Despite the season, it was pleasantly warm, and filled with flourishing greenery.
Summer was ensconced near the centre of the room, red dress flowing about her. A little girl knelt near her feet, chattering happily and sharing a plateful of finger foods with her. Her face was still marked with the melancholy of the past months, but even as Isaac entered the room, sunlight poured through the glass and lit up her face.