He was alone in the bed when he woke up, the moonlight coming in through the window and making everything look strange. “Frey?” he called, but there was no answer. He got up and checked the bathroom. Empty. But Freya’s robe was gone from the chair, and her stick.

He went to the window and stepped out onto the balcony, leaning on the balustrade to see if … movement, by the lake. There was enough light to see a figure at the water’s edge, slipping a robe off before diving cleanly into the water. After a long moment she broke the surface and struck out towards the centre of the lake.

Mal swallowed, watching her move through the water like an eel, then turned back into the room, grabbing the first thing that came to hand to wrap around himself before going back outside and down the stone staircase.

She was heading back towards the bank when she realised someone was standing watching her. She smiled slightly, then slowed until she was just laying in the water, barely moving her arms. “Why are you wearing my shawl?” she asked.

Mal looked down. “Gotta preserve my modesty somehow,” he said, shrugging.

“In my shawl?”

“Hey, I got the legs for it.”

“That you have.” She smiled. “Although I’m not sure who you’re preserving this modesty from.”

“Could be anyone out there.” He waved an arm absently. “Any number of folks wanting to come and take a look at the most beautiful woman in the verse.”

She laughed. “If you’re talking about me –“

“I am.”

“Then I think we need to get you that seeing-eye dog.”

“Here I am, complimenting my wife on her magnificence, and all she does is insult me.” He crossed his arms. “I am considering taking offence.”

“Don’t.” She gazed at him for a long moment. “Aren’t you coming in?”

“Frey, honey, it’s the middle of the night. Not sure you should be in there anyway, and not alone.”

“It supports me,” Freya said, standing up, the water running off her body like mercury in the moonlight. “And Simon said swimming was good for me.”

“You look li