“The storm has passed.” Bertrand’s voice dragged her out of the blissful nothing.
“Huh?” Maggie yawned, blinking at the bright sunlight that filled the sitting room.
“At last,” Alden said.
His chest rumbled under Maggie’s arm.
Heat flooded her cheeks as she looked from Bertrand to Alden.
“Let’s go stop the Compère.” She wriggled away from Alden and kicked free of the blankets.
Needles stung the arm she’d been sleeping on as blood rushed back into her fingers.
Bertrand lifted a tray of rolls from the mantle. “Never go into battle hungry.”
“Thanks.” Maggie grabbed a roll and headed for the door.
“I do wish we could bring your swords,” Alden said. “It feels rather foolish to be venturing after the Compère empty handed.”
“Well,” Maggie said, “either he won’t be able to have weapons e
