He slept too, deeply and comfortably. The night was cool but his bed was warm, doubly so with her there to warm him. His warning, too, must have been heeded because if she did move then it was slight enough not to rouse him.<br/><br/>Morning came swiftly, heralded by a distant chorus of clockwork-fuelled bells announcing the hour to all in the city who listened. Quentin had left open the shutters, so the noise was louder. It was also more obtrusive, for it sought to rouse him from a warm pit amid a cold room. In the end his usual discipline quailed, and he decided that if he was to have a day without work then he would do it properly.<br/><br/>He turned toward Zoey and let a hand quest out onto her hip, where it rested lightly. The other coiled its strong fingers about her neck. He squeezed, firmly enough to forbid her air, just to see her startle awake. There was neither cruelty nor malice in his eyes, but that didn't protect her from the squeeze of his hand about her.<br/><br/>"Wake up, little girl." He growled softly, once her eyes were open and her attention gained. His hand loosened a little but didn't fall away. "Sir has need of you, and you have rested too long." He added, with just a hint of a reprimand buried in the words. "Get up, find me something to wear, and run a bath. Once it is deep, warm and full we will go there but not -" He interrupted himself by stretching lazily out. "-before. Any slaves still in this room when I next open my eyes will be host to my most devious brand of abuse."<br/><br/>His eyes shut and, fuelled by the comfort she'd given him and the knowledge of a day shaping and crafting her, he let himself nap a short while longer.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>