In the room tucked away at the very end of the corridor in the east wing, the morning sun streamed in through the small gaps between the drawn curtains, painting the walls with slivers of bright light.
Inside this room, strange sounds echoed. There were squelching noises and creaks that mingled with breathy moans. These only painted a clear picture of what was happening behind its closed doors.
A subtle drift of pheromones hung in the space of the room, swirling around by the soft breeze that seeped in through the slightly ajar windows.
It mostly emitted from Mikael, carrying the scent akin to ripe grapes, much like the sweet intoxication of a fine wine. It mingled with a faint fragrance of the put-out candles and the essence of wooden furniture.
The bed made a distinct creaking sound as Mikael lay sprawled on his stomach, but with his waist lifted in an awkward position.