The aroma of fresh-baked bread filled the air as warmth enveloped the kitchen. A lone figure stood at the stove, pulling the loaves out with a happy hum. It was Pearl, and she was surely baking the bread for him. She was clad in a night shift which was slightly sheer and showed the shadows of her legs through the fabric. Her long curls tumbled down her back and there was a light dusting of flour on her nose as is what happens when she cooks.