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Sunlight filtered through the grimy window, casting the room in blurry yellow. Dawn had just reached the horizon. Mary lay awake, trying her hardest not to move. She gazed at Bash, who was still sleeping, with an arm lazily flung over her waist. His hair was messy, sticking about in odd directions all over. She slowly pushed her face towards his, their noses were almost touching now. Mary suddenly wished she had a bit of peppermint, or something, to freshen her breath. Perhaps she could get something downstairs in the tavern.

"How long have you been awake?"

Mary started and blushed at the sound of Bash's groggy voice. His eyes were still closed, he made no other signs to show that he was awake. "I could ask the same of you."

"I've been awake on and off all night," he opened his eyes now, they twinkled as he went on, "your roaming hands kept me up most of the night, truth be told."

"WHAT?"Mary bolted upright in bed, eyes wide open. "I most certainly – I did not touch you in my sleep. I can't believe –" Bash cut her off with a kiss. A long kiss. She deepened it, reaching her hands around the back of his bare shoulders, pulling him down on the bed so he was laying halfway over her. He ran a hand through her hair, prolonging the kiss, before he slowly inched away.

"Now, this is how I want to start every morning."

Mary caught her breath as she gazed at his smirking face. "You – you're incorrigible."

Bash nodded, "Mmm." He kissed her nose before rolling out of bed. Mary watched him as he tossed his tunic over his head. "So, breakfast?"

"Hm," she nodded absently.

He snorted as she continued to stare at him. "Or," he began with a raise of his brows, making his way back towards the bed,"we could always just stay in for awhile longer."

"Oh," her cheeks coloured as she cleared her throat, "no. You're quite right. We should be off as soon as possible."

"Right," Bash muttered, clearly disappointed. "You're right." He finished dressing, then grabbed everything but Mary's clothes, and paused at the door. "I'll see you down there?"

"Mm, yes. I'll be there promptly." Bash smiled at her before leaving her in the room alone. Mary looked about the dirty place with a frown. "I wish I had some water," she muttered as she combed her fingers through her hair. With a sigh, she got up and dressed quickly before making her way downstairs.

Bash was waiting at the bottom of the stairs for her. He motioned towards an empty table, but Mary stopped him before he took the first step.

"I need," she whispered, head hung low, "I need to..." She rose her brows and jerked her head to the side. "You know..."

Bash looked at her in confusion. "No," he laughed, "I have no idea."

"You know," she emphasized the last word, raising her brows as high as they could climb.

"What on earth," he continued to laugh before he rose his own brows. "Ooh," he drew out, "you require a chamber pot."

"SSHH!" Mary gawked at the area around them, flapping her hands for him to lower his voice. "Honestly, do we need to announce it to the whole tavern?"

"Nobody cares," Bash quirked a brow, "and, I've got news for you, everyone uses one. There's no reason to be embarrassed."

"Just," she began through clenched teeth, "humour me and be silent on the matter."

Seeing how uncomfortable she was, Bash relented and tried to keep a straight face. "Alright. Well, I saw some pots piled in the corner. I'll grab you one."

"Where shall I take it?" Mary's frown grew as she scanned the area. "There doesn't seem to be a privy anywhere around."

"I doubt there is one." Bash looked about. "I popped out this morning, went by a tree." He ignored her nose scrunch as he continued talking, "I suppose you could take it back up to the room and just bring it back down when you're done." He retrieved a pot for her.

"I can't believe they don't at least have a – a hole. Even peasants have a hole to use so they don't have to carry the chambers very far," she grumbled as she took it from his hands. "I never thought I would prefer when we stay outside, in the middle of nowhere." She narrowed her eyes at his snickering.

"I'm sorry," he was clearly not, "it's times like these that I'm extra thankful to be a man. Things are so much easier for us."

"No doubt," she snapped as she trudged back up the stairs and into the privacy of their room.

"I'm waiting out here for you," Bash called through the closed door. He waited a few feet down the hall until she exited the room. He reached his hands out. "Here, I'll dispose of that for you."

"No, thank you." Mary blushed as she dodged his offer and passed him in the corridor.

"I don't mind, really."

Mary paused on the third step to glance over her shoulder at Bash's sincerity. "I know you don't, and I appreciate it. But I can certainly empty my own chamber pot. You forget, I didn't always live in a castle with servants tending to me." She continued down the stairs and outside, where she crouched down to empty the content of the pot. Bash hovered nearby, waiting for her.

"Let us use the trough to rinse our hands, it's cleaner than the community wash basin in the tavern, trust me." Bash screwed his face in disgust as he remembered seeing the green and brown water bin inside the tavern. He and Mary dipped their hands into the trough, which didn't contain the clearest water, but it luckily wasn't too foul, either. Scrubbing as best as they could, they went back inside where Bash procured a few apples, pears, and two bowls of porridge for them, and a few supplies for the road. There was no water, they were offered beer instead. They ate quickly, both anxious to be on the move, before they made their way to the stables to get their horse.

Bash threw the blanket over the horse's back, nuzzled his nose before he began to affix the saddle. "Where to now, milady?" He winked at Mary as he put on the bridle.

"I don't know." She bit her lip. "Quite honestly, I'm surprised Francis' guards haven't caught up to us yet." She suddenly darted her eyes around the stables, nearly jumping when she saw the blacksmith pass through.

Bash nodded, but didn't look at her, as he led his horse out of the box. "Let me ask you something." He stopped to look at her now. "Are you sorry they haven't found us?"

"What? Certainly not. - Bash." She took his hand in hers. "I don't regret leaving with you, not for a second. Of course, I wish things could have happened... a little differently." She sighed. "And I will always care for your brother. A part of me, well, a part of me will always love Francis. I don't think that will ever change."

Bash pursed his lips. "I understand."

"No, I don't think you do." Mary stepped closer towards Bash, releasing his hand and putting her arms around his shoulders instead. "I meant it when I told you I love you. I do love you, Bash. And although Francis will always have a part of my heart, so do you. Francis, he was my past. But you, dear Sebastian, are my future."

Bash couldn't help the smile which split his lips far apart, nor could he help it when his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. Their lips met in a kiss, it was sweet and prolonged, and they were completely in sync. After a few moments, they pulled apart and Bash mounted the horse, holding his hand out to help her take a seat behind him. She reached around him, hugging her chest tightly against his back, her fingers laced at his stomach.

Resting her cheek against the back of his shoulder she murmured, "I think it's time we begin for the coast."

Bash quirked his neck so he could see her face. "Scotland?" She nodded. "Scotland it is, then," he muttered, and they both grinned at each other as they rode away from the village.


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