Breathing slowly and steadily through his nose, Renard marshaled all of his available will power to remain calm. He must remain calm he told himself. The side of his face ached where he knew the sidelong grimace of a twitch yearned to express itself. He wanted to smack it, but that would surely ruin the moment.

Poor Renard’s mind raced. He had achieved the unimaginable dream, in her apartment, in her bed, with her there no less! But he wasn’t really sure how he had done so. Though a great feat, this did not bode well for ever repeating it. If only her knee wasn’t on his hand.

“M-m-mylady, if you would be so kind,” he began, keeping his words calm and balanced, enunciating around his peculiar way of speaking, “my ha-and is undeur your knee.” She seemed to giggle, an angel’s laugh, heavenly music to Renard’s ears, and he found himself lost in its rhythm and melody.

She shifted around, her warm body brushing against his. She said something, but Renard didn’t hear it. He was lost to the world.