Primrose let out a soft sigh, then knocked gently on the balcony door instead. "Husband," she called gently. When he turned his head toward her, she asked, "Aren't you cold sitting out here?"
[So, my wife didn't want to surprise me … then why was she walking so slowly?] Edmund wondered. [Was the floor too cold for her feet? Or… is her body still sore?]
Before he could get up from his chair, Primrose opened the balcony door and deliberately lifted her dress just a little, just enough for him to see she was wearing slippers.
"It's not that cold in the afternoon," Edmund said as he reached out his hand to her. "Come here. Are you alright? Does anything still hurt?"
Primrose walked toward him without saying much, not expecting that Edmund would pull her straight onto his lap.
By the time she realized what was happening, it was already too late to escape, so she simply sat there with her cheeks pink from embarrassment.
"I'm fine." She cleared her throat. "Thank you for healing me."
