My whole body trembles as we step into the washroom together. However, I don't think it has anything to do with wanting to relive our bath together in Vernon's Glade. Sadly, my muscles quiver from overexertion. Plus, there might be a bit of revulsion mixed in there, considering we are both covered in mud and blood.

We strip ourselves, keeping some distance between us. Cephias bundles up his clothes because they're still in good shape, despite the blood spatter. My clothes, however, are tossed into a corner to be burned.

Despite how tempting the clawfoot tub looks, the idea of soaking in a stew of sweat, dirt, blood, and whatever filth lined the alley is stomach-churning. Thankfully, the inn has a shower head in the back corner of the room and we take turns rinsing ourselves off, using a sponge to clean off any unpleasantness from our skin.

It shouldn't feel like as much work as it does. By the end of my rinse, my body is crying out for a bed and every little movement is a painstaking process. I move with such focused intent that I don't notice Cephias turning on the bath's tap.

He only gains my attention when he takes hold and pulls me against him.

"I do believe I was supposed to apologize by drawing you a bath."

I only hum in response, my eyes too heavy and my body too limp to do anything more. Fortunately, he keeps me on my feet with one arm wrapped around my waist and the other gripped just below my bust.

"If I go into that tub," I mutter, "I'll likely drown. My muscles have abandoned ship and I can't even keep my eyes open. Which is a shame because I rarely get to see you in your full glory."

Still, I smile. My vision may be blurry with the droop of my eyelids, but my skin is alight with the feel of his taut muscles ensnaring me. I can feel his firm abdominals pressing against my spine and his hardening manhood nestling into the crevice of my backside.

"I'm a man of my word," he says, hefting me into his arms before stepping into the tub. "You will have your bath, and I will make sure your head stays above the water."

He slides down slowly and I feel the hot water kiss my rump. I hiss, the heat almost painful at first. However, my body acclimates once the water caresses my bruised hip. The relief it provides unlocks all the tension in my joints.

My skin is blotchy with bruises and exhaustion, my body is a boneless mass in his firm arms, and my mouth lulls open as I moan with pleasure, likely with a bit of drool gathering at the corner of my lips. I look a mess in every sense of the word. The princess in me would never allow someone to witness me in this state—not even the husband my parents tied me to.

Yet with Cephias, I feel safe.

Even when I feel broken and dirty—despite having just taken a shower—I feel beautiful before him. It's in the way he cradles me against him, laying my head back upon his shoulder as we sink all the way down into the tub. There's a gentleness in his touch as he scoops up water and pours it over my naked shoulders. His kisses are soft against my freshly washed hair and his whispers are warm with intimate familiarity.

"Where do you hurt?"

"Everywhere," I respond, breathy and half awake.

He chuckles and I feel it vibrating in his chest against my back.

"I could massage you everywhere, but I think it best we don't get distracted. We have an early morning, and you need to rest after everything you've been through today."

"This coming from the man who keeps threatening to tear his stitches out."

I curl and shift in his lap, so my lips are brushing the side of his neck.

"My legs and shoulders. They hurt the most from all that walking and lugging around the pack. My hip also hurts, but I'm fairly certain if anything other than water touches it, it will be more painful than soothing."

"See," he says, turning his head so his lips brush mine, "even more reason to keep ourselves under control."

"Tell that to the cock that's poking me in the back."

"I'll take care of that myself. I'm a patient man when I need to be." Despite his words, he plants a kiss on my lips. One that is neither a quick peck nor a passionate embrace. Just something soft, comforting, and so very loving. "For now, let me ease some of these pains."

His large hands find my thighs, careful not to graze the bruised hip that took the brunt of my beating. Thick fingers knead the muscle that has grown and developed since I left the lap of luxury granted to me as a princess.

I coo and purr, leaving sweet kisses on his neck. However, he only returns them occasionally and they are always a quick kiss on my forehead.

Apparently, he intends to stay true to his word and keep things gentle between us tonight. If he hadn't, the adrenaline might help keep my eyes open. However, I'm losing my battle with sleep with the hot blanket of water engulfing me, the firm work of his fingers loosening my sore muscles, and the steady beat of his heart against my ear singing me a lullaby as I curl up against him.

"When is the train in the morning?"

"It's 6:15," I mumble as my head nods.

"Good, now rest."

As if my body had been waiting this whole time for permission, my eyes blink close under his command and I drift away.

***

I feel a sharp pain against the back of my hand and the faces of the bandits flash before my eyes. I jump away gasping, their figures rough shapes in the low light of the dark alley.

I pull away. Dragging myself back, though one of them holds my hand, trying to keep me in place.

"Taliyah!"

Their voice is loud and yet comforting.

"Taliyah, wake up!"

A rush of air flies into my lungs and my eyes blink away the image of the monsters that stalked me through town. However, even after shedding the nightmare from my vision, there are still dark figures looming around me. At least, this time, they are soft with dawn's glow.

"Taliyah. It's me. I'm right here."

I turn to the voice and find Cephias kneeling at the side of the bed with my injured hand in his.

"I'm sorry if I caused you pain. I was trying to be careful. Your bandage needed changing, and I figured I could do that while you were still asleep, but I'm not the most dexterous with my hands."

I take a deep breath and lean against the headboard that I scooted up against in my haste to escape the illusions haunting my dreams.

"That's all right. It doesn't hurt anymore. Thank you for taking care of me."

"I have everything ready. I just need to finish with this bandage and put a new plaster over the gash on your chest. Then you can wash up if you'd like before dressing. We will need to head out in the next hour."

I look out at the window, the sky hazy with the first touch of a new day. The sun is still lost behind buildings, but I can hear others already outside, shuffling through the streets.

"Thank you, Cephias. I'm sorry for the rush, but we'll have time to rest once we're on the train. The ride is a few hours long."

He answers with a grunt, and I gather some energy from the promise of a cushioned bench. Admittedly, it won't be anywhere close to the comfort of a proper seat in the first-class car. However, after yesterday, even the most thinly padded seat sounds luxurious.

"Okay, there we go," he says as he helps me get out of bed. "I've pulled out your other set of clothes since your first one was ruined. We'll need to get you something else in the town we're headed to."

"Or I walk around in a dirty frock for a while. I will manage."

I get out of bed, clean my face and brush out my hair. I only have a handful of pins and a ribbon, as well as minimal experience dressing my hair myself. However, I manage something that resembles a bun and I tie a kerchief around my head to cover the inadequacies in my styling.

After I don my brown wool skirt, simple blouse, and rusty brown jacket, I take a moment to look at myself in the mirror.

There are dark circles under my eyes, a few scrapes on my cheek, and stray hairs curtaining my thin face. I'm almost unrecognizable. However, when Cephias saunters up behind me, I see the two of us together within the mirror. And just like that, it feels like me.

"Ready to go?"

"Yes, let's get on with it, then."

I don't fight Cephias when he shoulders the pack. It's a lot lighter without the goods from Vernon's Glade and my additional set of clothing. We have the addition of the remaining wine and food, but nothing that I fear will strain his shoulder.

We cross the street and reach the station without any incident. Then the train arrives like clockwork. We present our tickets and claim a bench in the back of the car, where I hope Cephias won't feel so crowded.

The train's whistle sounds and the steam hisses. The car lurches and rattles, the wheels beating out a clunky rhythm upon the rails. But then the chug of the engine picks up speed and the buildings beyond our window turn into a blur of colors before shifting to a wall of green trees outside of the city's limits.

We are on our way.

"Do you...do you regret leaving him behind?"

"Who?" I ask, my eyes already fluttering as the steady beat of the train lulls me back toward sleep.

"Sir knight."

"Oh, Bartholomew!"

In all the madness of yesterday and the hurry toward the train, I forgot about my dear, loyal guard. I'm unable to stop my face from answering Cephias's question, my lips drooping and my chest rising with a guilty sigh.

"He's a good man, Cephias. I hate doing this to him, but he was a threat to our progress. May the gods give me a chance to apologize when the storm passes."

He doesn't respond. His hand places itself atop my uninjured one and laces his fingers through mine. There's a light squeeze and I know he is apologizing the best he can, just as I know there's still some lingering jealousy within him. As absurd as I think it is to see Bartholomew as anything more than my knight and friend, I can understand how Cephias is seeing us from the outside.

I'd probably be jealous, too.

For the first hour, we sit in silence. Partly because I keep dozing off and partly because Cephias is as tense as a rock, watching every movement inside the crowded car. It makes him not the best pillow.

"Tickets please."

The conductor's request is enough to shake the last remnants of drowsiness from my eyes. I sit up, stretch my arms and rotate the kink out of my neck. Cephias keeps his gaze forward, willfully ignoring the man's presence, which is tight against our bench as a couple of women move towards the refreshments in the adjoining car.

"Sorry, I have both of our tickets." I pull out my purse and retrieve the stubs, handing them over with a smile. "It's his first train ride, so he's a little nervous."

"Ah, nothing to worry about, sir. We've only had five derailments this year so far. Last year we had twelve by this time."

He laughs and I feign a smile as I take back my tickets. The conductor then moves on to the car behind us and Cephias turns to face me with a stiff expression.

"I take it derailments aren't pleasant."

"No. No, they aren't."

"Lucky I can fly then. Humans need to accept their limitations. You weren't meant for such long distance travel."

I sigh, choosing not to contend with him. His white knuckle grip on the armrest has nothing to do with fearing an accident and more to do with the passengers bustling about to get drinks and breakfast pastries. Some have even livened up their tea or coffee with a splash from their flask and are bumbling about and falling into benches as the train sways. When one portly man's backside bumps into Cephias's head, I decide it's time to take a breather.

"Here, come with me."

I coax him out of his seat and tug him down toward the front of the car. He's hesitant to let me cross the platform over to the car ahead of us, but I assure him I took trains regularly for holidays when I was a princess.

We continue moving through cars until we finally reach the one closest to the engine. I look through the little pane of glass in the door and find it to be near black in the mostly windowless carriage.

I know I've found our destination.

"Just in here," I say, opening the door and ushering him in.

"Where is this?"

He closes the door behind him and the space fills with the sounds of rattling metal and raspy fabrics rubbing together.

"Baggage car. We brought our pack to the seat, but if we had larger cases, we could have checked them in here."

"It's quiet." His voice is hesitant as he sniffs the air.

"Yes, and dark, and closed off from everyone else."

My hands reach out in search of him and the moment my fingertips feel the cotton of his shirt, I snatch it in my fists and pull myself into him.

"Since we're alone, I thought maybe we could release some of your stress before returning to our seats. I still feel cheated after falling asleep last night."

My words brush over his thick neck and my tongue traces the length of it up to his jawline. I have to stand on my toes to get level with his lips since he keeps turning away to look over his shoulder.

"Cephias," I beg with a pout. "At least let me—"

"We're not alone," he growls, his arms enveloping me, tugging me over to a corner so his body stands between me and whatever threat he's perceived.

"Cephias, what's going—"

"I'm sorry, it's just me," answers a gentle voice from within the belly of the car.

My heart races as the man rises and steps into the low light filtered through the dusty door window. A boyish, apologetic smile is revealed.

"Bartholomew?"