The Traitor's Daughter

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Six

The next morning, Elizabeth woke up to a sharp pain in her neck, and the sun shining in her closed eyes. Her eyes still closed, she reached up a hand to grab her bed curtains to pull them back into place, but she only grabbed air. She groaned and opened her eyes as much as the sun would allow, and realized that she wasn't in her room, but instead in the chapel, which looked absolutely breathtaking in the morning light. The rays of sun filtered through the stained glass, and made it appear as if Elizabeth was in a brighter, more colorful world.

Before she could appreciate the room in all its beauty, she suddenly came to the realization that she wasn't alone. The uncomfortable pillow she had been laying on turned out to be someone's lap. She turned her head to enable her to look up at the person, and was met with the sight of the bottom half of Henry's face. His head was slumped down, his chin nearly touching his chest, and his curly hair created a curtain around his face, which had prevented him from being woken up by the sun.

Elizabeth knew that she should have moved off of him as soon as she had woken up, but he looked peaceful, and she didn't want to disturb him. Instead, she laid on her back on the hard, wooden pew, looked up at Henry's sleeping form, and watched his chest rise and fall with each breath he took. Her eyes traveled up to his dark curls, and she suddenly felt the urge to run her fingers through them. She kept her hands clasped on her stomach and fought the urge, although she knew that there would be no time like the present to accomplish the goal, especially since Henry was sleeping.

She took a deep breath, then held it to prevent her arm from moving too much as she lifted it into the air. She reached out a finger and ever so slightly moved it closer and closer to a tendril until it came in contact with it. She could have been satisfied with the simple touch, but wanted more. She slowly extended more of her fingers and lightly stroked them against his hair, finding that it was as soft as she had imagined it to be. She was too concentrated on Henry's hair to see that he had a slight smile on his face.

"Are you touching my hair?" He suddenly asked in a gravelly, sleep-filled voice, which caused Elizabeth to freeze, her hand still in his hair. 

"No," she replied quickly, while grimacing at the terrible lie she had just told.

Henry's eyes opened and immediately spotted Elizabeth's hand, which was still touching his hair. He looked down and met her gaze and gave her an accusing look. She immediately withdrew her hand and clasped it with her other, then grinned at him sheepishly.

"It was....stuck in your beard, so I was moving it away," she lied slowly, which only caused Henry to smile wider.

"It's all right," Henry began as he tucked some of the stray curls behind his ears. "Not many people can resist these curls. I was wondering how long it'd take for you to succumb to their beauty."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and laughed, then suddenly realized that she was still laying on Henry's lap. She quickly stopped laughing and sat up, her hands nervously fumbling with her braided hair.

"I apologize for sleeping on you. I-"

"It's all right, Liz. Next time, we should choose somewhere a bit more comfortable. My back is already quite sore." He stretched and grimaced, as if to prove his point.

Elizabeth couldn't remember falling asleep in the first place. After the pair had gotten through talking about all the drama that had unfolded that evening, they stayed up talking about nothing in particular, just whatever came to mind. She remembered resting her head against the pew and talking to Henry, but must have fallen asleep soon after.

"You have yourself a deal, Henry," she replied with mock seriousness and a pert nod of her head.

Henry stood from the pew, then held his hand out to help Elizabeth up, which she accepted.