Harry Hunter smiled, his little wife sure knew how to flatter him, making him a bit full of himself.
He sang a few more songs, and after having beggar's chicken and grilled fish, even until late at night, Isabella Weaver was still lost in his singing.
At night, inside the tent, Isabella curled up in Harry's arms, holding his waist, "You sing so well, why not sing a lullaby to coax me to sleep before bed."
"I've been singing all night, and you still haven't had enough?"
"Not enough, I want to hear more."
Harry, helpless, had no choice but to sing softly.
When he finished a song, he turned to see that his little wife was already sweetly asleep.
He even thought of "punishing" her a bit, but how could he punish her now?
Harry chuckled bitterly for a moment, held her tightly, tucked her in, kissed her, and whispered softly, "Goodnight, Isabella, I love you."
A good night's sleep, Isabella awoke the next day full of energy.
