Late in the morning the next day, Twenna awoke. She didn’t remember where she was until she looked up and saw the dark red canopy; she was in Harsin’s bed in his private rooms at Middlemont. She wanted very badly to stretch, but Harsin’s body nearly covered her head to toe in a muscular, hairy blanket. She stretched as much as she could and raised her head to look at the clock above the mantel--but her view of it was blocked. “Harsin?” said Twenna timidly.
“Hmm?” he mumbled into her neck.
“Harsin? There’s a man standing at the foot of the bed.”