Marin woke in the gray mist of dawn. They were leaving today. Three nights of spooning and kissing and now it was over. He prayed for the sun not to rise. For the night not to end. Tilly was still sleeping. Her breaths slow and regular. When would be the next time he could lay so close to her? His hand begged to reach out, to caress the smooth slope of her waist and hips and thighs, but he didn't want to wake her. To break the spell. Because he knew that once her eyes opened, they would have to rise and finish their preparations for the journey home.

But, like all beautiful things, the night had to end.

Tilly yawned, stretching her back so she rubbed against Marin's form. And then she turned over to face him, sleep still in her eyes, a dab of dry spit at one corner of her mouth. In the morning you get to see people in their most natural state. She was like fresh snow before any creature had imprinted its paws on the surface: serene and pure and gorgeous.

"Hey," she greeted him, her voice still husky from sleep.

"Hey." He smiled at her. "Do we have to get up? Or can we lay here for just another moment?"

"We have a long walk ahead of us." She stroked his cheek with the back of her hand, leaned forward to kiss him on the forehead, and then stood up.

He knew he was going to follow her back to Curander. Knew, after yesterday's visit with Aldric and Ann, that this farm could never be his home again. But he wasn't sure he was returning to a place that he could ever call home again either.

Fight for your innocence was an easy enough thing to say. But what did it really mean? To pray and grovel and beg and repent until Abbot Osbert relented and let him rest his head on the cot that was set up opposite his father's? After tasting the rich honey that was Tilly's mouth, how could he ever go back to the bland and destitute life of The Order? To a life of duty, but no love?

But he rolled over onto his elbows, slowly propped himself up, and then stood. Reluctantly he dressed, went to the basin to splash some fresh water on his face, and then left the barn with Tilly by his side.

After a mug of hot tea and a bowl of steaming porridge, Trea helped them pack a meal for the road. Two loafs of fresh bread, cheese, dried meats, and some fresh strawberries that had just turned ripe. Marin could fit most of it in his satchel, along with his usual assortment of herbs and amulets. Tilly took whatever was left over in her traveling pack.

It had been a grim-faced meal. Quiet. Apprehensive. Even Margaret seemed subdued in the early morning light. And then everyone walked over to the dirt trail that wound its way across a meadow and led to the wider road beyond.

"Be safe, brother. Visit again, soon!" Hobson enclosed Marin in a tight bear hug when they reached the edge of the farm.

"I promise. And thank you for everything," Marin said into his older brother's chest.

After everyone said their farewells, Marin and Tilly headed down the path on foot. Curander was twenty-seven miles away, across one river and over several foothills. It was unlikely that they could complete the entire trip in one day without a horse to ride, but with such an early start, they just might make it.

They walked in perfect rhythm. Legs swinging at the same pace. Marin reached his hand out and hooked pinkies with Tilly, needing to touch her.

There was a silence between them as they walked on the path that cut through tall grass sprinkled with dandelions. Fat bees buzzing from flower to flower. Marin had a million things he wanted to say, but was simultaneously at a loss for words. They'd had three days of stolen kisses and soft embraces, and while they had not known each other as a husband and wife might, he certainly felt a loss of innocence. His heart had become full and heavy in those three days. Had hers done the same?

He knew he could never go back to the way things had been. Like a butterfly emerged from a cocoon or a flower sprouted from a seed, his feelings for Tilly had bloomed, metamorphosed into something new, and could never go back to its previous form.

The silence stretched across the meadow and onto the wide road that passed under a shaded awning made of ash and maple trees. With shadow and light dancing over their faces with each breath of breeze, Tilly finally spoke, "I think I could hold your hand forever."

"You're not holding my hand. Just my pinkie." He smirked.

"Well, then I guess I could hold your pinkie forever."

"So, you'll hold my pinkie even as we walk through Curander?"

She didn't free her finger from his, but she didn't immediately respond either. "You know we can't. Not when people are watching. But, there are plenty of places to go when you don't want to be seen."

He thought about this. Sneaking around. Clandestine meetings. A secret affair. It could be exciting. At least for a time.

"Tilly?" He asked.

"Yes?"

"What is your dream?"

"My dream?" She turned her head to raise a brow quizzically at him.

"For the future?" He expanded.

She turned back to face the direction they were walking. Her eyes took on a far-away look. "I always figured I would live my days as a nutrix. Grow old until I was a patient in the convent's hospital, instead of a nurse. But, now I'm not sure."

"Why aren't you sure anymore?" A flutter invaded his chest.

"You know why."

"I do?" He finally felt those butterflies that the traveling bards sang about. They were going crazy in his chest, trying to fly up his throat and escape through his mouth.

"Marin." She stopped walking to look at him.

"What?" He was helpless under her gaze.

"You're going to make me say it?"

"Say what?" He couldn't help it. He needed to hear her confirm everything that he had been feeling.

"You are so stupid." She kissed him. Hard and deep. Forcing him to step back into a tree.

Her lips left his. "I never thought anyone would find me... kissable." He bit his bottom lip, still feeling the tingle of her touch.

"I've always found you kissable. That's what makes you so stupid." She turned and walked ahead of him, and after a moment, he hustled to catch back up with her.

They continued to walk for several hours through lightly shaded woods. Often, open fields and farmhouses punctuated the wall of trees that lined the main road. They had plenty of time to speak about everything and nothing. They remarked on the weather. The birds they saw. How funny the squirrels were as they chased each other over the branches. Marin asked Tilly about what medicinal plants she kept in her garden. Tilly asked Marin to share stories about growing up with his brother. For miles they walked, seeing no one else, except farm workers in the distant.

At midday they reached the river and stopped for a meal. Their feet were sore, so they took off their boots and allowed their bare feet to cool in the shallows of the riverbank as they broke their bread.

"So, I'm walking all this way back with you, but, do we have a plan?" Marin asked after swallowing a bite of bread and cheese.

"You need to go see Abbot Osbert and explain to him you are innocent. That you only admitted guilt out of... I don't know. Desperation?"

"Desperation? That doesn't sound very convincing."

"Well, why did you confess to... to..." She waved her hand into the air, not completing the sentence.

"I don't think that I ever said that I was guilty of what she accused me of." He scratched at his smooth chin, hoping to remember the exact words he had used when sitting in the abbot's ornate chamber. "I believe I just said I was a sinner. And, that much is true."

"We're all sinners."

"And I'm more of a sinner now than I was when I confessed." Marin waggled his brows and flashed a crude smile.

Tilly ignored him. "Did you ask what you needed to do to repent from your sins?"

Marin tried to think back. So much of that day was a blur at this point. His life had been overturned, ransacked, and ruined. But that destruction had opened this new path to love.

"I don't recall," he admitted.

"Well, I can come with you and tell him what I know about Jocelyn's condition. How late she is in her pregnancy. Her earlier request for pennyroyal tea. I can also mention the public knowledge of her affair with Albert. Everyone in town knew they were an item."

Tilly was so bold as she spoke. Self-assured. No waiver or doubt in her voice. And Marin was in absolute awe.

But something about the mention of Jocelyn also gave him a dull pang. She was a victim of Albert's cruelty. Was it selfish of him to choose his own happiness with Tilly over hers?

He took another bite of bread and pushed the thought away.

Jocelyn had set him up maliciously. She had tried to destroy his reputation. Tried to separate him from his father. Tried to deny the town access to his healing powers. Yes, Albert may not be stepping up to take on his responsibility, but that didn't mean that Jocelyn deserved Marin's mercy.

She didn't.

Marin shook his head, clearing the images of Jocelyn, and instead kept his eyes focused on Tilly. He trusted her. They would right the wrongs that had been committed.

Swallowing, Marin wrapped up the rest of his loaf and placed it back in his pack. He took his feet out of the cool steam and dabbed them dry with a rag before buckling up his boots. Tilly also readied herself to continue the journey. Then, together, they walked across the sturdy wooden bridge that crossed the river and continued on their journey back to Curander and the situation that awaited them there.