Sir Belron reluctantly rolled over in his bed and looked out of his window. It was still dark, but there was no way he would be going to back to sleep. Not after the dream he had just had. He had dreamt of his wife, as he almost every night, though, it being several years after her death, he no longer cried when he woke. When she had just died, he had found that he had been crying even while he slept.
After washing a bit, he looked at his tired self in the mirror, in his military days he hadn\'t had a mirror, he regreted having one then. That Millia had stayed up half the night until he had told her that he was still in charge of this house and that he would not have anyone not sleep in his house. Though he hadn\'t been able to force his son to bed, the boy had said he would leave soon, Belron hoped he had. He didn\'t know what would happen if the boy had made the mistake of sleeping with her.
He walked downstairs and had the cook, who had been up for a couple hours already, for his breakfast. She was used to him getting up this early, somehow, as servants always do, she knew that his dreams disturbed him. "Don\'t lecture me, Liliya. I haven\'t had much sleep."
"I know, that was what I was going to lecture you on!" The cook replied with her usual tarty, dry humor. "Though, I did have some news for you, but you aren\'t feeling well, so I might tell you later. If it all."
The old man chuckled and ate.
As soon as Keara returned his kiss in full, Malken pulled her tightly against his body, giving the impression that he would never let her go, and nor would he. If not physically than in time. He would never let her go away from him, though sometimes they might part for a short while. Like this morning.
Malken heard movement on the stairs, or maybe it was his imagination, but his father usually got up around this hour. "I believe my father\'s up." He said pulling away for only the moment. "But he won\'t come and check. I have a few minutes." He smiled before continuing their heated kiss.
