Isole woke before the sun, the way she always did, and lay still for a moment in the grey almost-light, cataloguing the unfamiliar weight of an arm across her waist before she remembered, all at once and with a small helpless warmth in her chest, exactly why it was there.
She didn't move right away. She let herself have the stillness a while longer, listening to Vane's breathing behind her, slow and even, and found she didn't want to be anywhere else in the world badly enough to disturb it.
Eventually she eased free, careful, and dressed in the pale light without waking him, moving through the small warded room with the same economy she brought to everything — though she caught herself, twice, pausing over nothing in particular, her hands stopping mid-motion for no reason she could immediately name.
