Numair brought his book closer to his face, squinting in the waning light to make out the text. He sighed, dropping it to his lap, and regarded the candle—or what was left of it. The stub held on just enough to not extinguish, but should have been changed nearly an hour ago. He looked down to where Daine rested against his shoulder, breathing deep and her own book having long fallen to the wayside.
He'd procrastinated changing it so that he could delay waking her, but he now knew he had reached the inevitable. He pulled his arm from under her, wincing at the pins and needles that spread through it, and wrapped it around her to sit her up straight. To his surprise she didn't wake, but turned into the settee with a groan and settled once more. Taking stock, he pulled away gently and decided to find a new candle. He could do with some more reading.