Chammielle leaned against Will's shoulder. His steady and quiet breathing telling her he was still fast asleep. All the work he'd done up until now so they could go on this trip had exhausted him. And the whole time he had not allowed her stay and assist but for an hour in the morning any longer. He'd sent her off for more regular sword lessons once Bells had told him about it. Personally, she believed he though it a good distraction for her so she wouldn't be stressed about his long hours. But here in the carriage to the Columbine Ducal lands, she saw the anxiety that had wrecked his last nerve from overwork.

She hadn't had a meal with him in a while. When his sisters had bid them farewell with many hugs and kisses, it had been so lighthearted. Now, as he slept most of the day, she worried for him.

"Will...you work too hard."

She saw the perfect shape of his nose, the slender and lilting lines of his lips giving way to a dark pink fullness. His strong chin that had just a touch of stubble on it. He'd been so tired he hadn't shaved this morning. She let her finger trail across the prickly pieces.

They stopped for lunch at an inn, the black coach they were taking looking like any other. Her dress was a pale blue cotton, with a white linen chemise under it stitched with forget me nots along the collar. It was simple but lovely. Will's dark blue suit looked similar to a magistrate's casual garb, but he had a gold pin at his throat with the lace ruffles.

Their lunch was a simple beef and barley stew. Hearty and with a crust of bread and flaggons of ale. She particularly liked the peas and carrots. Will seemed to perk up a bit as they sat and ate.

"Dear, have you ever tasted something so nice?"

He smirked, remembering their cover.

"I am sure my sweet that you cook just as well."

She smiled and put a hand over her lips, pretending to blush at the complement.

Makeup had been applied to her face and hands. Her freckles were concealed since they left the waypoint where they'd changed coaches. It wasn't until they got to the small fife that they were safe to look like themselves. Will even had a pair of cheap glasses on to hide his face from anyone who had seen his portrait around the kingdom.

They ate quickly and left a small but generous tip for the innkeeper. They needed to make it to the Columbine estate before dark. It would be a half hour after that until they got to the quiet little fife cut off from the rest of the world.

He fell back asleep in the coach and she was left alone with her thoughts once more.

Her fingers brushed at her throat where Bram had nearly choked her. Whatever he'd done it was very efficient. It sent a chill through her that someone knew the weaknesses of the body so well. Especially someone like him.

What had he been thinking doing that?

For some reason she hadn't told anyone what he'd done. Perhaps it was the fear that he could sneak into her bedroom just as easily and she'd wake up to his massive hands about her throat once more. Yet for some reason she trusted a part of what he'd said. He wouldn't hurt her. He was just toying with her. Flexing his power over her like when they were children.

These dark and curious thoughts continued with her as they rode along. Nightfall coming sooner than she expected. Her imagination had gone a bit wild on their way.

The carriage came to a stop and she was jostled from her thinking. Will woke beside her and kissed her lips, pushing her concerns down with the feel of his warm and pleading mouth.

"We're here...let's go get changed."

"Changed?"

"Didn't I tell you? There's a night festival here. It's three nights long to go with the full moon. Let's wash that silly paint off of you and go have some fun."

She smiled, happy not to be going to bed with all her stupid worries still floating around like a vapor willing to consume her. Her body could use a stretch, and she hadn't been to a night festival before.

"Let's."

The house was small. Only two bedrooms and very quaint. If Chammielle had ever wanted a house of her own she had thought of something like this. Scrawlings of primitive folk art lined every banister, beam, and floorboard. A rustic fireplace with flue and copper hood in the middle of the great room lined with rosemaling. Shabby little couches that looked well worn and comfortable, and a rocking chair near the clean swept corner at the window.

She nearly stepped inside but found herself hoisted aloft.

"Will!"

"This is our honeymoon, darling. I must carry you over the threshold. And it's Bill here, remember?"

She giggled and held onto his neck.

They waltzed into the room and he spun her with a flourish that had her shrieking. He dipped her and kissed the nape of her neck.

"Where would you like your trunk, Mr. and Mrs. Cornwall?"

Sir Rosenblum stood behind them in his livery clothes. Their meager belongings easily fitting into his arms.

"Upstairs if you will. There's a bed up there for you if you want, else you're welcome to come to the fair with us."

He chuckled at the pair of them. She was still dangling from Will's arms, her head nearly touching the floor.

"Thank ye, I'll just be around a bit longer. Then I'll follow. I fancy me a pint or two tonight, so don't wait up for me."

He gave them a wink and now Chammielle really was blushing.

She was righted and set on her feet once more. A boyish grin overtaking her husband's features unlike any she'd seen before. He looked brand new.

"How is my acting so far, Miss Gâteau?"

"It's Mrs. Cornwall now, thanks to you Bill."

He kissed her cheek and pinched her sides.

"Silly me. Cham, darling, what say you to a roll in the hay before we go out tonight."

"Will!"

He laughed and kissed her. He'd caught her off guard and she'd fallen for it.

"I tease. Who is this Will you're always talking about? Do I need to trounce his sorry arse?"

She covered her mouth so she wouldn't laugh at his vulgar language. He sounded so different but was still the same. In fact, she might like him better.

"No, nothin you need to be worrying about, mon amant."

He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head.

"I like that. I shall be your lover many times this honeymoon, my dear little Francan wife."

...

She'd washed her makeup off in a basin in the small water closet. The house, though primitive, was set up that it even had a chamber pot that rinsed and emptied itself. Water flowed into a hand basin at the pumping of a handle. It was a very modern achievement to have pipes that pulled water into a house.

She stepped out of their room and found "Bill" standing st the top of the stairs. A fresh shirt and gentleman's shoes and a gold ring on his finger. He looked very commonly dashing.

"You look beautiful."

She glanced at the blue dress, stitched with rudimentary chamomile in a chain around the collar, three quarter sleeves, and hem. A little gold cross tied with ribbon at her throat. It was plain but cute.

"You look dashing."

He smiled and it looked roguish. Like a man truly on his honeymoon about to ravage his new bride. Her ears tingled.

"One more thing... A well to do merchant must show his wife belongs to him..."

He stepped forward and reached into his coat pocket. Taking her left hand he slid a slender gold band over her ring finger. They matched now.

"It's nothing like the pink diamond ring I slipped into your teacup, but I hope you like it."

He spun it and she saw a small hear engraved on one side.

"I love it."

She wrapped her arms about his neck and their lips met in a familiar and scintillating dance. Pulling at his lower lip he groaned and his hands pulled her hips into him, one sliding around to cup her under the seat as the other went for her knee. His absence had made him hungry for her.

He'd just pressed her into the door when he sighed and pulled his face back.

"Fair...right...come on."

He set her on her feet again and she was in a daze as he pulled her by the hand from the house.

The little gate along the lane was lit by a lantern, and lights trailed down the street. It got brighter the further she looked and they walked arm in arm towards the sound of lyre music. Glowing sights and sounds and smells to lure them in.

"Mrs. Cornwall, welcome to Torheit. This is the night festival of the Cheese Eating Hare."

The half timber and lime plaster houses were tightly rowed and had colorful paper lanterns strung from every window to its neighbor's. Carts with colorful awnings sold trinkets and toys for children, to sparkling sticks of faux explosives, meats on skewers and dumplings in cups, and flagons of Spring Ale spiced with honey and fennel blossoms. Children roamed the alleyways ducking between carts and causing mischief with firecrackers. And couples and young people danced in the street singing songs that made no sense at all.

It was loud, bawdy, and brilliant.

"What are they singing, Bill?"

He smiled and nodded along.

"It's an old story about a rabbit who loved cheese. It caught a flight with an eagle who was going to eat it but thought it should be fattened up first. Since the rabbit would only eat cheese, the eagle flew it up to the moon. But the moon blinded the eagle, it dropped the rabbit, and hasn't been able to find it since. To mock the eagle, the cheese eating hare burrowed into the moon and ate it's way so that a permanent sign he was still there could be seen by all. Eagles fly high now to try and catch the hare, and they are singing about how the rabbit is mocking them in song. Listen."

She laughed at the ridiculousness of it all but listened to the lyrics as the next verse came around.

Oh silly bird you can't eat me

Your wings fly high but your eyes don't see

I dig my burrow and I eat my brie

But your blinded eyes they cannot see!

Ha dee daw dee

You cannot see

Ha dee daw dee

You cannot see

You birds of flocks do take wing

But this high you can't climb you silly thing

My curds and whey they have a zing

For you brought me here for such a fling

Ha dee daw ding

You took wing

Ha dee daw ding

You took wing

How quick I escaped from your tallon and feather

When you dropped me here upon this cheddar

Your wit was good, but mine was better

And I sing this song so you'll remember

Ha dee daw doo

Quicker than you

Ha dee daw doo

Quicker than you

She'd never heard anything so silly in her life and she clapped along as the ladies kicked their legs up during the chorus. Young men spun them around and around and then grasped them so they danced with their arms pretzeled around each other as they moved. It was so odd and so very brash. She only wished she had the energy for such sport.

"Would you like something to eat? They make excellent cheese dumplings. There is this one seller who makes them with rabbit ears."

She laughed at the general gaiety and tried to speak so he could hear her as well.

"Have you been here before, Bill?"

"I spent a day here before. Everything else I've learned from Alfrina. I'd never been to the Cheese Eating Hare festival before now."

She grabbed his hand and pulled him forward. A few cheese dumplings and some Spring Ale seemed the right idea. They purchased them with some bronze coins and she gazed at the little ears sticking out from the horn cup.

"Bill! It's so adorable! How can I eat it? It's just too cute!"

He leaned in and nibbled on her ear.

"You're too cute, Cham."

She giggled and finally brought herself to to take a bite.

Warm and gooey, sharp and hearty cheese oozed from the soft and glossy dumpling. She slurped it so it wouldn't spill and the strands of it stretched several inches between her and the bowl. It seemed she'd have a hard time eating this like a lady. She laughed through her bite.

"I can't! It's too messy!"

William leaned in and bit the strands of cheese so that he got some and now they were both momentarily stuck in the web.

"Oy, two lovebirds stuck in the cheese! May ye have as many children as our Cheese Eating Hare!"

She nearly choked but laughed again instead. It was such an odd thing to say, but others raised their steins of the ale and called out a hearty here here! for them.

Will gave her a smirk and caught her mouth which earned them further shouts and congratulations. She almost pulled away since they were in public. But she was having too much fun. And the cheesy kiss was just that good.

They clinked their steins with each other and others who came by them. The festival was wild and a man juggling goslings walked by them so everyone got a laugh. She drank and watched the lights dance across the midnight sky.

"Oh...come on Mrs. Cornwall..."

She finished her mug of ale and felt a little dizzy. Was that her second? Bill's arms wrapped around her and helped her walk. Or was he hindering her? She couldn't seem to walk the way she wanted to.

"Bill! Where are we going?"

She laughed as she skipped along with him. Her knees buckling and doing a funny dance.

"ShhhHhhh!"

He snickered and put a comical finger to his lips. He was so fun. She really loved him.

The music got quieter and he ducked around a stack of crates. It was so dark back here and she turned around the corner and was spun against the wall.

"Bill, what are you doing?"

He chuckled and she felt his hands everywhere. She gasped and moaned as his mouth took hers.

"Mmph! Bill, we're in public..."

"No one is around...and I want to do something to you...so very badly..."

His fingers hiked her skirts up and she felt them smoothe over her thighs as he kissed her. She shivered deliciously and put her arms around his neck. He kissed her throat and she giggled as his hands found what they were looking for.

"You are so different when you drink ale, mon amant. Let's do something special to mark the occasion..."

He bit into her neck and she moaned as he pressed into her. Her blood had never felt so hot in her life. If her legs didn't feel the night air she was sure she would boil.

"Bill..."

"Goodness, this alias thing is fun...stay right there..."

He kissed down her chest and then he seemed to disappear. But not for long. Her hips were shoved against the wall and she writhed.

"B-Bill!"

"Hush, or someone may come."

She clasped her hands over her mouth and tried to stay silent for the duration of his attentions as sensation after sensation washed over her.

She failed.

Several times.