I was roused from my slumber by a ray of early morning sun that had found its way through a gap in the curtains. Groaning quietly to myself, I rolled over, away from the light, and faced my husband instead. Maxon was turned away from me, the covers only covering half of his scar-ridden back. A small smile found its way onto my face as I lifted my hand to touch the scars. My touch, though light, must've woken him. He turned towards me with a tired-looking smile on his face.
"Good morning, my dear," Maxon said with a slight taunting tone to his voice.
"Good morning Your Royal Husbandness," I said, taunting him right back. "Sorry to wake you."
"It's alright, darling." He looked at the clock, which stated that it was eight o'clock in the morning. "We should be getting up soon anyway if we want to have breakfast together before the budget meeting." He tried to cover it up, but I could hear in his voice how very unenthusiastic he was about the dreadfully boring few hours that awaited him. Besides, I already knew how he detested those meetings as I often felt exactly the same way about them.
"Wouldn't want to miss that, would we?" I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
"I know, love. I really don't want to go either, but I skipped Sunday's meeting, so I have to go to today's." Maxon looked at me, his gaze rather accusing. It had been my idea to just take a weekend to ourselves to relax and spend some time together.
"As far as I can remember, you were perfectly fine with skipping it," I said, implying some of the more... explicit ways we spent our time that day.
"I never said I wasn't happy with skipping it. We had a very… lovely weekend. I'm just saying that the advisors might not be very happy with me if I avoid another one."
"Okay, you win," I said. For some reason, I just didn't feel like arguing this point.
Maxon's expression became animatedly bewildered, and the voice he used was one of overly exaggerated disbelief. "What? America Singer-Schreave, Queen of Illéa, admitting I'm right? Why, that's practically unheard of! Are you quite sure you're feeling alright?"
"What can I say, Maxon?" I said, "As I am one of your weaknesses, you're one of mine."
Rather than respond with words, Maxon wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close and kissing my forehead. We stayed in bed, with Maxon's arms around my waist and my head on his chest, until Mary knocked on the door at eight thirty.
"Come in," Maxon called, taking his arms off of my waist and sitting up. I inwardly pouted for a moment, silently cursing Mary for her punctuality. I was comfortable…
"Good morning," Mary said, curtsying. Maxon's butler, Stavros, came silently in with her, and bowed as he came to a stop at her right side. "Will you be coming downstairs for breakfast soon, or should I tell to cooks to delay the meal for a bit?"
"No, we're getting up now," Maxon said, shooting me a significant look. I sat up, rolled my eyes pointedly in his direction, and proceeded to get out of bed.