I owe you guys an apology for taking nearly a year to update. I'm sorry, I really don't have a decent excuse. But I finally wrote this! I apologize for any anachronisms or mistakes. Thank you guys for all the support and lovely reviews. Reviews make me happy. So enjoy this chapter and please review!

The new chamber was one Mary hadn't been in before, even in an entire childhood spent in the castle. Her mother, or more likely a serf in the castle, had made it rather pleasant, with candles casting a dim light over a bed, and flowers on the bed and the shelf.

"This is very nice," Matthew said, as he stepped into the room, not meeting Mary's eyes. "These flowers are very beautiful. Perhaps tomorrow you can show me the gardens?"

Mary nodded. "Perhaps, although you might be expected to go hunting."

"Then I am afraid this is my last night of credibility," he said mournfully. He sat on the edge of the bed, and took off his shoes. "I'm not a very competent hunter, to be honest. That is part of why I don't want to hunt..."

A small laugh escaped Mary, to her own surprise. "I thought you trained as a night. Surely you would be quite capable."

"Alas, I was never much good at it," he replied, shooting his new bride an apologetic smile. "I'm surprised I actually was able to become a knight, it took me nearly a year to be able to ride a horse without falling off. I was always better at the thoughtful parts of it all, strategy, history, things like that. I wanted to go on to Cambridge..."

Mary bravely sat next to him. "Why didn't you? It seems like you're intelligent enough."

"I think that's the most you've complimented me for the whole time we're known each other, your highness," Matthew teased.

"I suppose perhaps marriage changes one," replied Mary, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Matthew furrowed his brow. "So quickly?"

"No, not yet. But maybe we'll make this work. We have to, don't we? We don't have a choice," Mary says ruefully, standing up from the bed. "But why didn't you go to Cambridge?"

"My father died... I needed to support my my mother, and I couldn't do that if I went to Cambridge. I was disappointed but it was the right decision, I believe. And it wouldn't have been much use to me anyway, not here."

Mary undid the belt of her dress and untied the laces of the back of it. "It's quite restrictive, you know. My dress, I mean. But I suppose living here as a female is restrictive as well. Quite annoying, actually."

"I shall be grateful, then, for what I have," Matthew replied, his eyes widening as the dress came off her. "I'm sorry, would you like me to look away?"

This elicited a shrug from Mary. "We're married, what does it matter. You have a right, now."

Matthew shook his head. "Of course I don't have a right, not if you don't want me to."

"You're very forward thinking. Very few have respect for their wives."

"I've always been odd," Matthew replied. "But perhaps I would be hesitant about one looking at me, and would want to extend the same courtesy."

Mary pulled off the outer layer of her gown, revealing a formless chemise underneath. "You're shy, then?"

"Maybe."

"Well, you don't need to be so around me," Mary replied. "I've never met a man like you. Funny that I should marry one."

Matthew bravely took off his doublet. "I can't say I've met a woman like you either."

"You're quite handsome, you know."

"Are you drunk?"

Mary smiled enigmatically. "I might be. But that doesn't mean I'm lying. I've heard drink often makes one more truthful."

"Perhaps you should be drunk more often then," Matthew replied.

"Are you implying that I am not honest?"

Matthew quirked an eyebrow, hesitantly sliding off his doublet and revealing the clothing underneath. "No. Merely that I cannot understand you. If you are honest, perhaps I can. But I can truthfully say, without a drink to my head, that you are quite beautiful."

"Then we are evenly matched," Mary replied. "Anyway, I'm not very drunk."

"No, obviously not. Just drunk enough to let your inhibitions go away," Matthew said. "Are you sure you want to tonight..."

Mary stepped toward him. "I'm sure."

Their first kiss had been hesitant. Their second wasn't perfect, but it was chosen by them.

To Mary's surprise, the light that flooded the chamber in the morning did not make her wince at all. Instead, it was pleasant, and the usual head pains she experienced after a rowdy feast were not present. She shifted in the bed, not used to the weight dipping down beside her. Of course, when it was cold in the winter, she shared a bed with Sybil (not Edith, never Edith) but that was different. Sybil always rose first, leaving Mary to shiver upon her awakening.

No, this was very different.

His eyes were still closed, and he looked even younger while in repose. There were no lines on his face, no furrow to his brow. His light hair was sticking up at all angles, but it was clean. He must have washed well for the wedding, of course he would.

It was so odd to think of herself as a married woman, and of Matthew as her husband.

She hadn't been lying, when she told him he was handsome. Perhaps it was not something she would normally say, but it was true. She used to dream of a handsome prince to marry, tall and dark and handsome, and definitely not a simple knight. He was not like any man she had imagined. His light hair and bright eyes were the opposite of the dark hair and deep chocolate pools she had dreamed of. But it wasn't necessarily a bad kind of different.

He respected her, last night. He showed that, in his own odd way, he loved her, or he was beginning to.

She had not been taught to expect that.

And there was passion between them, sparks that burned far longer than the candles that lit their chamber the night before.

No, he was not perfect. No, he was the opposite of anything she could have imagined. No, she didn't think she truly loved him. The night before had been nice, but was it love? No, it was duty. Of course it was duty. Love played no part.

It wasn't love, she convinced herself. Maybe he loved her, maybe a little bit, but he was far more sentimental than she and he was bound to let that cloud everything. It was better as duty.

But, she was grateful that it was not the dark eyed man of her imagination who slept in her bed, but him.

His eyes fluttered open to see Mary looking at him. There were traces of a smile on her face, and he couldn't help but give her a full smile back. She was beautiful, so much so that it took his breath away.

"How long have you been awake?" he asked, his voice low and raspy.

A delicate tilt of her head brought his attention fully to her face, and she quirked a dark eyebrow playfully. "Long enough to realize that you like to take all of the blankets," she replied, holding her hands up as he threw the blanket toward her. "You didn't wake me, if that's what you're worried about."

"Good. I'm afraid I'm notorious for wrapping myself in my covers, at least according to my mother, and the knight I was a squire to," Matthew replied, pushing himself up in the bed. "I suppose I like to stay warm."

Mary grinned and mimicked his movements. "Well, I'm notorious for being cold, in more than one sense of the word. I suppose we're evenly matched."

"You said that last night, as well," he pointed out,

"I know. It's a turn of phrase I commonly use."

His eyes met hers, and she blushed and looked away. He kept looking. "Do you remember last night? Or did you drink..."

"Of course I remember last night, I'm certainly not going to forget my wedding night soon. Besides, the fact that all my clothing is on the floor is all the reminder I need," Mary said, waving her arm over the side of the bed.

It was Matthew's turn to blush. "Oh. Of course. I probably should get dressed..."

"I saw it all last night."

"Last night was a night of discoveries," he replied, his tone nervous. Suddenly, it brightened, and he said, "I do believe we can make this work, your highness."

Mary smiled back. "Perhaps we can, Sir Matthew. If nothing, we won't have to back out on the promises we made yesterday."