It’s Not Forever

25 August, 1360. Magdaline Castle, Islia

The next morning, William emerged from the bedchamber to find the two siblings curled up on opposite ends of the couch, bleary eyed.

"Did the two of you spend the entire night talking?" William asked them.

"Not quite, but almost." Malcolm yawned and stretched. Camilla stood up, trying to smooth her rumpled gown.

"Would you like us to call for a bath for you, Mal?" she asked.

"That sounds heavenly. But where would I hide while it was being set up?"

William thought it over briefly, then his mouth quirked. "That's quite simple. You could just hide under our bed."

Malcolm aimed a quick sideways glare at him. "Well, I'm sure you'll find that fucking amusing, won't you?"

"Not at all." William replied primly, keeping a straight face only with difficulty. "It would be my pleasure to provide you such an opportunity. I can even offer you a clean shirt and tunic to wear afterwards."