"Good! Then neither of us have to show up at the barracks with a cricked back. We probably have some leeway with time, they might figure us dead." He gave a dark chuckle, petering out pretty quick.

Aymeric finally got his habergeon off, pulling the underclothes with it. He less-discreetly than ordinarily sniffed his armpit and straightened back up.

"I think I should rinse before getting into any bed. My perfume wore off hours ago... I bet you're worse."

He said perfume, but he meant the lavender he picked himself and crushed into his soap that he bathed with every morning, no matter how cold the waters felt.