The curtains blocked out the sunlight, filling the bedchamber with a quiet, peaceful atmosphere imbued with the scents of amber and roses.
Colin tiptoed in to find Isa and their daughter sleeping soundly.
He held his breath and slowed his heartbeat, fearing to wake the two sleeping beauties before him.
Taking his place by the bedside, Colin sat motionless, his gaze fixed on the little bundle in Isa's arms.
The child had the same pointed ears as Isa and his own monolid eyes, but her sparse hair was unlike theirs, fiery red in color.
A round little face, chubby fingers and toes, and curved eyelashes, this delicate little creature, at least in Colin's view, was surely the most remarkable masterpiece of creation. He looked at her without blinking, as if he was beholding a miracle, a treasure, a blessing.
This is my daughter!
Colin silently marveled, unable to resist reaching out to touch the little one lightly.
