A warm stripe of light crossed Madeleine’s face through a crack in the curtains. She squinted as she opened her eyes.

It was sunny outside? Seriously?

A soft laugh escaped her before she rolled over to find the other side of the bed empty. Hæra was gone.

For a moment, her heart fell. Then she remembered Hæra kissing her cheek and leaving much earlier in the morning. What time was it?

One look at her phone told her it was 8:35. Not as late as she’d thought, but she and Jonathan were supposed to have breakfast together while Hæra worked in the fields. He was probably wondering where Madeleine was.

Madeleine bit her lip. Maybe she wasn’t up to facing Jonathan anyway. The events of last night must be written all over her face.

A smile crossed her face. It grew bigger. Then it turned into an actual giggle.

Good grief. This wasn’t a moment for giggling. She’d done it. They’d done it, herself and Hæra, what Madeleine had been yearning to do for so long—and what Hæra had clearly yearned for too.

I want only you, she’d said. I’ll have only you.

Madeleine touched the side of her throat. Hæra had bitten and sucked her there. She pressed down with her fingertips and inhaled at the soreness. Hæra had wanted to mark her.

Madeleine had felt the same. At the thought of Hæra with another lover, some kind of frenzy had seized her, and nothing eased it until she knew Hæra was hers alone. And then…later…after Hæra had a nightmare, there had been comfort and teasing, as soft as the sex had been sharp.

No. This was no laughing matter.

It might, however, be occasion for joy.

Joy wasn’t the same thing as happiness: happiness could be something you didn’t necessarily feel, but was an overall state of being you hoped to attain. A low, steady fire burning in the hearth all day. Joy was a flaming torch. It inevitably went out, but while it lasted, it dazzled with heat and light.

Madeleine, greedy for light, would hold on to this torch as long as she could. Maybe Hæra didn’t like fire, but she’d certainly put up with it last night. Besides, it was just a metaphor.

She looked at the other side of the bed where Hæra had lain, holding her. And had that nightmare. Hæra had always said she never slept, much less dreamed, but last night she clearly had.

A night of firsts for both of them.

They could talk more about that later. Madeleine should get moving. It would have been…nice…to wake up still snuggled in Hæra’s arms. But it was nice to have time for herself too: to prepare herself for whatever this new day brought.