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He raised a hand and gestured the maiden over, then asked for, “Ale, and whatever ye hae that is cooked enough tae be edible.”

She laughed and batted him on the shoulder. “Tis all cooked, Sire, tis all barely edible.”

She placed down two cups of an ale that was brown and sour and perfect. I drank too fast and felt it hit my empty stomach with a rush, an instant buzz.

I wiped the head off my upper lip on my wrist. “Damn, that was good, needed that.” As she placed a basket of bread down, followed by a thick broth with barley and a few scraps of mutton.

We ate like people who had been riding for days, which we had.

I burned my mouth and did not care.

She had barely stepped away when Torin got to the bottom and called her over to ask for more.

We ate so fast that it was shocking how quickly we were done. Then we leaned back against the wall. Torin said, “Well, from a humble inn in the fourteenth century we hae had a verra good wedding night.”

I smirked, sipping from my cup. “And it’s not even night yet, so if you’re lucky, Albannach, I will treat you to another campaign before the night is out.”

He smiled and raised his glass. “Ye are getting better at it!”

I joked, “And perhaps I will let you store your cart in my courtyard.”

He grimaced. “Nae, ye are doing it wrong again.”

Dude walked in just then, and all the patrons turned to look as the majestic cat glowed in the light from the door, dust floating around his head, then jumped up onto the bench beside Torin and rubbed his head against Torin’s elbow begging for petting.

Torin looked at ease, an ale in one hand, petting Dude with the other, I had my head on his shoulder.

He exhaled. “Tis all well, dost ye feel the buzzin’ went away?”

We both sort of sighed.

I looked around the room. “It’s kind of disappointing that he’s not here.”

“I told ye he likely⁠—”

“I know, but still, I had my hopes up.”

The serving maid went by and I called her over, she raised her finger asking for a moment to get some beers.

Torin said, “Why ye calling over the maid? Ye goin’ tae ask her where Max is?”

“Yes, but… why is that…?”

“I haena seen ye speak tae the villagers, I thought twas because ye were a princess.”

I rolled my eyes, “No, it’s because I have no idea what’s going on back here in your time. Just like you have no idea what’s going on in mine.”

He chuckled. “Except this inna my time either.”

The maid carried over a pitcher while Torin said, “Just ask her if Max is here in Dollar or Clackmannan or has he gone tae Stirling or…”

I gulped. “I changed my mind, you ask.”

The maid filled our cups from a pitcher while Torin said, “We are waitin’ on a man. He is dark of hair, large, arrogant like a laird.”

She narrowed her eyes, mid-pour. “What dost ye mean, Sire? Is he a laird?”

Torin said, “He is a prince of men.”