Madeline who was lying on her front with her head being supported by the pillow, her eyes were closed as Calhoun had continued to massage her back after speaking too kindly to her. In a time like this where she felt lost, he stood next to her, and she was grateful to it. With a light pink splashed on her cheeks, she let Calhoun move his hands back and forth like a cat kneading with its paws.
She didn't know what hour of the night it was and if they were in the hour of midnight.
"Tell me about your dream," Calhoun coaxed her, his fingers trailed on her back where the bruises had formed. He had taken the liberty to move his hands where the bruises were not formed, touching and tracing her soft skin
In the morning after breakfast, Calhoun had asked her about it, but she had told him that she would tell to him once he returned to the castle.
