That night, as Marin removed his bindings, he felt a sense of dread crawl up under his tunic and prickle at his skin. He sat in just his thin shift, not turning around to face Tilly, who was already laying on the straw mat she had unrolled next to his.

"Hey," her rich melodic voice caressed his ear. "Come here."

But instead of scooting his body towards her, his shoulders slumped forward. Soon, soft fingers reached out and stroked against thin fabric. Tilly moved closer to him without speaking. Without prying.

He was not looking forward to Trea's surprise. Ever since she had announced it at midday, Marin had felt a pit in his gut. Heavy and unmoving. Tilly had also seemed sluggish and distant.

"Maybe it will be okay," Marin muttered. "It's been years since I've seen anyone from around here, except my brother and his family, of course."

"I haven't been around here since I left and joined The Order," she admitted.

"Ann never really knew me. She might not know who I am." His voice floated above hers.

"Well, she'll know who I am." Tilly's fingers stopped caressing his back, and Marin finally turned to face her. She looked as miserable as he felt.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Don't be. We both made our choices. She could have run away with me, like we had originally planned." Tilly's eyes stared off at the beams holding up the thatched roof.

"Her husband, Aldric..." his voice trailed off and disappeared down a memory. Being ten, maybe eleven. The taunts of Hey there freak! and You're more of a boy than your brother. I wonder who your parents are more disappointed by! Other stupid insults meant to rile him up and push him down. Aldric's icy blue eyes shooting invisible daggers at him. His cold dirty hands clawing at him, scratching at his flesh. Pushing Marin's face into mud. "He wasn't very nice to me when we were kids. He'll remember me. I just hope he has grown up to be less of an asshole."

"Poor Ann. She never wanted to marry."

He didn't know how to respond. Tilly was afraid to reunite with her childhood sweetheart. Marin didn't want to confront his former tormenter.

"I had a thought this morning, but now it seems so stupid," he said to change the subject.

"What was it?"

Marin stretched out his legs and draped one arm over Tilly's waist, pulling her closer to him. "I was thinking about how simple it would be to just stay here. Build a cottage of our own off on the other side of the field. I could help Hobson tend the land and you could help Trea with the children. Maybe my father would come back to be surrounded by his sons and grandchildren."

Tilly relaxed her body into Marin's, her fingers tickling at the hairs on his forearm. "It's a nice thought."

"I know." He kissed her neck.

"But I don't think Hobson or Trea need our help. Nor do I think Hobard wants to return to farm labor."

Ignoring her, he continued to kiss her neck, his lips moving up to her jaw. "We could spend every night just like this," he whispered.

A small moan escaped from her lips and her hips pressed back ever so subtly. "You know we can't." It came out as a pant and she pressed against him even harder.

"I know," he said, but his hands groped at her, pulling her body closer to his, leaving no space between them. Only two thin pieces of fabric separated their flesh. They lay there, his hands exploring, their bodies grinding and undulating, the only noises leaving their mouths were heavy breaths and sighs.

He wanted to rip off the last layers separating them. To devour her with his tongue and lips and fingers. To press against her until the boundaries between their bodies became nonexistent. But he restrained himself, feeling self-conscious, becoming too aware that the throbbing between his legs didn't match the form of his desire. And his kisses slowed.

"What's wrong?" Tilly asked.

"You know we can't."

She turned to face him. "I know," she said, holding his face, and then leaning forward to kiss him.

They fell asleep with limbs entangled and woke up to the dancing dust motes in the rays of morning sun. Marin looked down and saw that he had gotten blood on his shift. A shot of panic hit his lungs. He needed to make a quick retreat to go wash himself up and prepare for the day.

"Where are you going?" Tilly asked groggily.

"I just need to clean myself up."

She looked at him and noticed the stain. "Oh, I hate when that happens. Let me help."

"I–" the words got stuck in his throat.

"It's no big deal, Marin. Come here and take it off." She held out a hand.

Take it off? Disrobe, just like that? He had never been naked in front of a girl, and while last night it was all that he wanted, now, in the morning glare, he just couldn't make his elbows bend in the right direction to do as she had asked.

She must have sensed his discomfort. "It's okay. Step around that bale of straw and just hand it over. Here, take your bindings and your outer tunic, trousers, and vest with you."

Relieved, he did as he was told. He took off his shift with its rust-colored stain and handed it over to her. As he got dressed, she gave him a fresh rag so he could clean himself up. As he wiped at his thighs, he prayed that the bleeding would stop today. And not for the first time, he wished he knew of a potion or spell that would make the bleeding stop forever.

Dressed, he stepped back around the straw bale and saw Tilly thrusting his shift into the basin of water that was left out on the barn's floor. She scrubbed at the spot and then soaked the fabric again. Once she was satisfied, she wrung out the water and climbed back up the ladder, holding the garment. She lay it out flat over one bale of straw and smiled at Marin. "See? No big deal."

He was in awe. "Thank you."

"Really, not a problem." She kissed his cheek and then walked away to get dressed herself, pulling her outer tunic and skirts on over her shift.

"Are you ready to face the day?" Marin asked.

"No. Not really. How about you?"

"Not at all." He laughed.

"Maybe one more kiss? For courage?"

But before Marin could fulfill her request, Hobson walked through the barn doors. "Hey you guys, hope I'm not intruding." He winked knowingly at his little brother. "Trea wants to make the cottage look nice for Ann and Aldric. I'm just here to milk the cow because Mathilda is off collecting a bouquet of wildflowers."

"So, Aldric is coming?"

"I assume so. Don't worry. I'm bigger than him. Go grab some porridge while it's still hot."

Marin took Tilly's hand and squeezed it. "Hobson is right. Let's face the day with a full stomach."

"There's that phrase again. Hobson is right. See? You always should listen to me." Hobson laughed as he grabbed a pail and milking stool and walked down to the cow's stall.

Marin and Tilly left the barn and walked into the cottage where they accepted steaming bowls of porridge and filled their bellies, stealing themselves to visit a past they had both hoped was left far behind.