"Yes," she breathes, remembering how she sat on his lap in the armory, how their hands wandered until a passing noise from outside interrupted them. Yes, more of that. More of this.

They had removed their cloaks earlier, folded them to lie in a pile near where both their names are now carved. Reluctantly she pulls away from him and reaches for his, spreads it on the ground, and kneels on it, looking up and holding out a hand to him to join her, her expression an odd mixture of impatient and a little shy.