Tilly's lips pressed back to meet his. They were soft like rose petals. The kiss only lasted a few seconds. No deep hunger was ignited in him, but that didn't make it any less powerful. He felt a surge of warmth explode in his chest and travel down his legs and arms.

Marin opened his eyes and saw that Tilly was staring at him. Her brows seemed to dance, not being able to decide whether to look confused, or surprised, or happy. They finally settled with a contented look matched by a serene smile. Marin leaned forward to kiss her again, but she placed a hand on his chest and held him where he stood. But she didn't step back. After a moment, she placed her forehead on his shoulder and pulled him in for a hug.

Time disappeared as they stood there, their bodies pressed against each other. With his arms wrapped around her back and his nose nuzzled into her neck, their embrace felt more intimate than that single brief kiss.

"We should probably get back to Hobson and Trea," Tilly said eventually.

"Mmm," Marin agreed without letting go.

After another moment, Tilly slid her hands up Marin's back, and placed them on either side of his face. With her forehead pressed against his, she whispered, "You are not unloveable. Never believe that."

"Do you know... about me?" Marin's lip trembled again.

"Yes, I know," she said without elaborating.

"And?"

"And what?" She tilted her head up and kissed away the tears that had formed in first his right eye and then his left. "Let's go. We can finish this later." And she walked back towards the ladder without glancing back.

Marin felt dizzy. Unsteady on his feet. His whole equilibrium shifted. What had just happened?

But as he watched her walk away, a huge grin spread across his face and he couldn't stop smiling.

* * *

That night, after Marin had cleaned himself up and gotten ready for sleep, he laid down in his straw roll in just his tunic. Tilly laid on her own roll, facing him.

The rest of the afternoon had gone by without further surprises. After Tilly and Marin had returned from the loft and assured Hobson and Trea that everything was fine, it was time to return to the usual litany of chores and duties. Animals needed caring and meals needed preparing. None of that stopped just because an unexpected guest had arrived. And, after the evening meal, there were no protests when Tilly announced she would sleep in the barn's loft.

"So." Marin smiled.

"So?" Tilly smiled back.

"May I ask?"

"Depends. Ask what?"

"What happened with your family?" Marin ventured.

"Oh. That." Her eyes darted down, her smile dropping.

"Yes. That." Marin wanted to reach out, to grab her hand, to caress her cheek, to show that he was only asking because he cared and not because he wanted to pry. Instead, he tried to explain himself. "You said we were different. We. And you seemed already to know my difference. I assume you knew more about my mother's family than you originally implied. So... Yeah."

Still looking away, Tilly asked, "Your mother didn't quite accept you the way your father and brother have, did she?"

"No," Marin admitted. "But she had stopped trying to change me by the time she died. There's a part of me that believes she would have seen me as her son, eventually."

"You're lucky," she said, meeting his eyes once again.

"Lucky to be born feeling so wrong in my own skin?" He knew what she meant, but he didn't feel lucky.

"My parents always suspected there was something off about me. I'm the seventh of nine children. I have two sisters, both older, and six brothers. And, I don't know, I just didn't fit in. I was never interested in the things my sisters were. They were into boys and clothes and combing their hair. I would call them vapid and go run outside to dig in the dirt. And then, well, I spent too much time with Ann."

"Ann?" He knew there had been a connection.

"We were friends. Best friends. Inseparable. When I was thirteen, my parents were already trying to marry me off. Ann and I made a plan to run away."

"To go where?" Marin shifted up on his elbow.

"Who knows? Just not get married. We didn't get very far when her parents learned our secret and told my parents, and it lead to a huge fight. My parents called me unnatural. And, maybe in a way I am."

The way she said unnatural gave Marin a shiver down his spine. "In what way?" he dared to ask, but he thought he knew.

"My heart."

"Your heart?"

"I ran away to become a nutrix because I knew that I never wanted to be some submissive wife. Marriage, to a man, I just knew that I couldn't do it." She leaned towards him, insistence in her voice.

"So, your heart would never be open to a man?" A hint of a whine invaded his question.

"Not to a man who expected me to just... submit."

"I'm a man." Marin gestured at himself. He didn't feel like much of a man without his bindings. Bleeding. But he was a man and had been willing to sacrifice everything to maintain that identity.

"I know you are," Tilly said, leaning close to him.

"Would you ever be able to give your heart to me?"

"Have you already given your heart away?"

"I still feel it beating right here in my chest. It hasn't gone anywhere."

Tilly reached out her hand to feel Marin's chest. Her fingers were tentative, just lightly touching directly beneath his collarbone. No one had ever touched him there when he didn't have his bindings on, and he could feel his heart quicken, both with excitement and fear. Her hand didn't cross any boundaries, but stayed, feeling the thrumming in his chest.

Mirroring her, Marin reached his arm out and rested his hand on her heart. They let there, arms outstretched, eyes barely blinking for a long moment.

"I think I could lay here with you forever," Marin broke the silence.

Tilly scooted closer to Marin, as if pulled by some invisible force. And he invited her body to lie against his. "I know," she whispered into his ear, her warm breath giving him goosebumps.

Marin caressed down Tilly's arm, feeling the curves of her hips, tracing the small of her back, learning the shape and feel of her. Had he ever lay so close to a woman before? His knees pressed against hers. The rise and fall of his chest matched hers. Their faces were mere inches apart.

Tilly leaned in, her nose gently grazing his, and then their lips touched again. Her mouth opened slightly, and he felt her tongue and the heat of her breath, and he melted against her. His mind went blank. All that existed was her smell. Her touch. Her taste.

They spent the night like that. Cuddling. Caressing. Kissing. Their kisses grew deeper the darker the night got. Hands groped. Legs intertwined. And when the sun rose, the rooster calling them awake, they still lay in each other's arms.

"I guess we should get up soon," Marin muttered into Tilly's dark wavy hair, her face burrowed into his chest.

"Yes, before Milo comes in to milk the goat," Tilly said as she rolled over, straightening out her disheveled tunic.

"That would be for the best." Marin sat up reluctantly. "And maybe we should make ourselves presentable." He smiled, awkwardly.

Tilly laughed and reached out to stroke his cheek. "Maybe one more kiss?"

"Yes, I think we have time for one more," Marin said, leaning in, his lips aching for hers.