Isabella woke up to an empty bed. The coldness on Leofric's side told her all she needed to know. That damn man. Did he think he was immortal? A little break would do him a lot of good.
Colour rose to her cheeks when her eyes fell on her clothes from the previous night, carelessly strewn across the floor. True to his word, Leofric had punished her all night, sending her into oblivion—so much so that she didn't care to remember. It was a good punishment, one she wouldn't object to any time, any day.
As she lay there, memories of their passionate lovemaking flooded her mind, and she blushed at the sheer intensity of their desire. Ah, the man is going to be the death of me, she thought, smiling to herself.
Just as she was getting lost in thought, Judith knocked and entered with a large pile of washed clothes. Isabella sat up in bed, glaring at her handmaid. She had learned from Leofric that Judith was the one who snitched on her the previous night. So much for loyalty.
