Elynor's shoulders tensed visibly, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. Isolde felt his anger like a storm cloud rolling in, the atmosphere charged with it. "How fortunate for you to have such an excellent view then," Elynor replied, his voice like steel wrapped in silk. He stepped closer to Isolde, effectively putting himself between her and Vale.
"I hope you weren't too... distracted during your lesson, Isolde." The implied warning in his words was clear.
Vale merely chuckled, unfazed. "On the contrary, I found it most enlightening. Her Grace seems a quick study. You've chosen a good future wife."
His gaze flickered to Elynor's hands, still curled at his sides. Elynor, pulled Isolde in by the waist her face flushed as he let his hand settle lower His fingers pressed gently into her hip, the heat of his touch seeping through the fabric of her riding habit. "And I intend to keep it that way," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear as he leaned closer.
