Fleur was sitting in their bedroom on the bed, rubbing lotion into her skin when she heard him call up to her. When she'd gotten out of the shower, he'd been gone, and she'd felt a flash of panic that maybe he'd left, and then that had been replaced by even further irritation that she'd felt that way.
She came down stairs slowly, her arms bare in a lightweight nightgown, her feet bare. Her glass of wine was empty in her hand, and she took in the sight of the food on the table with upraised eyebrow before going and pouring herself another glass and then bringing the bottle to the table.
"You went to the village?" she asked, leaning back in her chair, not sure how hungry she was, even though everything looked very good. The bruise on her face had nearly faded with the bruise paste, and though she'd hidden it earlier with cosmetic charms, the mottled yellow purple along her cheekbone and eye socket was still visible if you looked close enough.