Molly sighed as you helped her step off the wagon, leaning against your shoulder as she lifted one foot to roll the ankle; her copper curls tickling your neck.

“My feet hurt,” she pouted faintly; an understandable result from the long day you'd had together, wandering around the sprawling Saint Denis without raking many chances to rest.

Molly bit back a yelp — instead saying your name in surprise — as you suddenly scooped her into your arms, bridal style, quickly clasping her hands behind your neck to keep herself supported.