Every morning at seven, Constant would draw back the curtains, whether Bonaparte was awake or not.
It was a rule Bonaparte had set herself, like an alarm clock.
She had thought that after graduation, she would no longer have to endure this and could sleep as late as she wanted.
She turned over, intending to face away from the glaring sunlight. She had assumed the space beside her was empty.
When she slowly opened her eyes, Leon was still lying beside her. He might have been awake for quite some time already, because his gaze was remarkably clear.
Many hotels had this sort of design: two rooms that appeared completely separate, with a door between them. After last night's welcome reception, she had passed through that door into the adjoining room.
Strangely, whenever he came to her room, he used the main entrance outside, as if deliberately letting everyone outside see.
The two suites were equally luxurious, but his room was more spacious and predominantly green.
Sleeping really had been nothing but sleeping. Their nightclothes were properly on, yet strangely, the rest had felt wonderful. She woke up quickly as well.
The air was filled with the smell of gunpowder, left behind either by the fireworks that had burned all night or by shells fired from warships at sea.
In any case, on this morning filled with the cries of seagulls, he kissed her.
"How beautiful," he said while she panted for breath. "Like a Damascus rose blooming with morning dew."
She stared at him blankly.
"Get up, Princess. We still have guests to meet later."
With that, he rose briskly. His valets began preparing his washing things, while Georgiana did not know whether she ought to get up at this moment.
Before long, Margarita entered with the maids. They