Chapter 91: Tomorrow

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Chapter 91: Tomorrow

Someone had left the window open last night. Galadriel stared at the clear glass, the honeyed stream of dawn pouring through it, and wondered which one of them forgot to close it. She couldn't remember the night before, the morning haze of her mind still lingering like thick fog, but she knew it had been wonderful. Rhysand was pressed against her bare back, an arm under her neck, the other loosely hanging over her stomach.

Something about the window urged her to look out of it, like a melody she couldn't hear calling to her through it. But she was too comfortable wrapped up in her blankets and mate to bother. Reaching behind her, Galadriel ran her fingers through Rhysand's hair, smiling as he pressed his chin and nose further against the back of her head. Perhaps they had been too distracted to close a window, occupied with something of much more interest.

"We were," Rhysand croaked in that deep, crackling morning voice. "We were very occupied."

Galadriel turned her face into the silken pillow, laughing as the memory came back to her. Rhysand ran a hand down her back and she wormed at the cold touch until he warmed it for her. He went down her spine, over her rear and the back of her thigh before returning north, slipping his hand between her legs as he did. She squirmed and turned onto her stomach as he chuckled into her ear.

"Considering how much I abused you there last night, I'm surprised you're not slapping me away."

Galadriel tucked her arms beneath the pillow, turning at last to look at him directly. "Bring me breakfast in bed and all will be forgiven." He grinned, already shifting off the bed. "And you're cooking!" she added. "No handing it off to the wraiths."

He held up his hands as if opening his naked body for her to behold. "As long as you don't mind your eggs slightly burnt." She had minded, for a while. But those crispy edges had practically become a staple in her diet.

Galadriel grinned back into the pillow, stretching her legs and hips. She waited, smelling her breakfast cooking for what must have been an eternity. She tossed and turned, calling out for him to hurry before her stomach crawled out of her body, but she received no response. With a theatrical sigh, she rose from the bed, throwing on a blue robe tossed over the chair. As she tied the knot by her hip, her eye caught the window again. The sky was a deep shade of blue and she could hear morning birds sing, the peaks of roofs just visible over the window ledge.

Smiling, she took a step toward it, wanting to look over the city for as long as she could. Her home.

But Rhysand was taking too long. Galadriel turned away, stampeding down the stairs so he had a warning of her impending arrival. She heard the sound of wood against an iron skillet, then the ceramic clanking of plates. "Finally," she said, entering the kitchen.

Rhysand smiled at her. "I called for you twice."

As she took her seat on the stool by the island bench, Galadriel frowned slightly. She could have sworn he was going to bring it to her in their bedroom. Shaking away the thought, she took the offered plate and tea. "Plans for the day?" she asked. Rhysand drank from his tea, no plate before him. "Why aren't you eating?"

He placed his cup down, still grinning at her like he'd just received wonderful news. "What would you like to do? What would you like to see?"

"Typical male," she grumbled. "Ignoring half my question."

"I didn't ignore half. I ignored a whole question. And the answer is because I'm not hungry."

Galadriel pushed her plate forward. "Then I'm not eating. You wait until I tell Cassian you aren't eating breakfast. He'll rip you to shreds."

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