Marin, carrying both his satchel and Tilly's bag, hustled down the rear staircase. Tilly had walked ahead of him, and he didn't want there to be any distance between them. His mind was in a whirlwind. Spinning images raced by so fast that nothing made sense. So much had happened since this morning, but there was no time to stop and reflect and make the pieces fit together.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Marin was now right by Tilly's side. She was cradling the newborn girl in her arms, humming softly and swaying gently as she walked along the tavern and out into the afternoon bustle of the city. It was the time of day when people were finishing up their errands before heading home, and foot-traffic was busy. Not too many carts were moving: merchants and farmers were already set up and where they needed to go. So, at least they didn't have to contend with many horses or donkeys as they navigated the cobblestone streets.

They walked without talking, taking it slow, and by habit heading towards the western gate, the one with the path that lead to The Order. Marin made sure no one walked too closely to Tilly, keeping one hand on the small of her back protectively. His eyes darted up and down and across the streets they traveled.

"What are we going to do?" Marin finally broke the silence between them as they reached the edge of the city, and the number of people around them dwindled to just a few.

Tilly gazed down at the baby in her arms. "She's beautiful, isn't she? Most babies look a little, well, funny, when they are born. But her features are just so... perfect."

"How about the hospital? Are there any nutrix who can help care for her? Maybe someone knows of a wet-nurse?" Marin continued worrying as they walked beyond the city's walls and made their way up the dirt path.

"Have you seen her eyes? I know most babies have blue eyes, but they are just so blue."

"Tilly," he stopped walking, standing in the shade of a tree. "What are we going to do?"

She looked up at him, the baby still clutched to her chest. "Not the hospital."

"Why?" he asked, his eyes scanning the horizon, hoping for a sign. But all he saw were the solid stone walls of the compound on top of the hill and the tall walls of the city down below. The sun was dipping further and further to the west. They needed a plan soon.

"I told you, there isn't a wet-nurse there. Nurses, but not wet-nurses. The nutrix aren't mothers. You need to have given birth to be a wet-nurse." She stared at the bundle in her arms as she spoke, not seeming to handle looking away for long.

"So, why are we walking up the hill back to The Order?"

"I–I guess I don't know. The Abbot?" She glanced up momentarily. Then the baby whimpered and Tilly's eyes snapped back down, drawn as if by a magnet.

"I don't know if showing up with a baby in my arms would help me be accepted back into The Order," Marin said, both exasperated and at a loss.

"Shh, shh," Tilly bounced. "Well, the baby is actually in my arms. Not yours. Isn't that right?" She smiled down, her question directed to the baby.

Marin stared up at the clouds, thick and white against the blue sky. They'd be streaked with orange and purple soon, bruised by the evening setting of the sun. And here they were, on the side of a road, with a suckling babe not more than a few hours old. "The orphanage?" Marin asked, his voice unsure.

"What about it?" She continued to bounce her knees, not even bothering to look up at Marin.

"Tilly." He said, a sense of urgency behind the word.

"Marin," she deadpanned.

"They might at least know of a wet-nurse if we go to the orphanage." It seemed reasonable. Even if they didn't leave the child there. Although, this baby was an abandoned child, which was exactly who an orphanage was meant to care for.

"No." She was firm.

"If not the hospital and not the orphanage, then where are we going?" He threw his hands in the air, at a complete loss over what to do.

She stepped towards him, turning her attention to him. "Did you mean, what you said before?"

"What thing that I said before?"

"About leaving."

Marin took in what she was saying. The suggestion she was making. His heartbeat quickened. "With the baby?"

"Yes. With the baby... We could be a family. A family of three." Her brows raised hopefully.

He took a deep breath. The idea was more than he could have dreamed. He could barely wrap his mind around the concept. To have a family of his own. Would that make Tilly his wife? Did she want to marry him? They seemed to be doing things backwards, getting married last, when really that should be the step before children. Before intimacy. But did that really matter? "A family of three. That sounds... really nice. Actually, 'nice' doesn't do it justice. It sounds amazing."

"It does, doesn't it?" Tilly's eyes drifted back to the baby between them.

"Forever?" he asked, unable to help himself.

"Forever," Tilly agreed.

"Is this crazy?"

"Yes. Definitely. But that doesn't mean it's not right." She beamed.

So, they didn't have a plan. Or even a place to stay the night. But they had something: a family of three. It was a hope. And in a way, hope was a destination. "Okay, where are we going to go?"

The baby fussed again, and Tilly turned her attention back to swaying and bouncing and hushing. Marin realized it was going to be up to him to make the next decision. He would have to take on that responsibility. That's what a man did. What a father did.

His father.

"We can't leave without my father," Marin said, a fresh wave of panic spreading across his chest. What would his father think? Would he agree to come with them?

Tilly nodded in agreement, and they both started walking back up the hill towards the compound.

"Let's go introduce him to his new granddaughter," Marin said, feeling how the words felt on his tongue. If this baby would be Hobard's granddaughter, that made her his daughter. A daughter. That was a concept he had never thought was a possibility. A wife and a daughter. A family. He was slammed by more emotions than he could decipher. Fear. Anxiety. Joy. Exhilaration. It was a cascade of extremes that vibrated his bones.

"She doesn't have a name yet." Tilly mused, her face and voice calm. If she was feeling the same mix of emotions, she hid it well.

"No, she doesn't, does she?"

"If only Hobson hadn't named his baby after your mother," Tilly mused. "Maggie was also a big influencer on my life, and in some ways, steered our destinies so that our fates would intertwine."

"Well, they call the baby Margaret, not Maggie."

"Still, that's too similar for cousins so close in age, don't you think?"

Marin had to agree. "We'll think of something."

"Yes. I'm sure we will."

They continued their ascent until they reached the walls of the compound. "I–I can't go in there," Marin stuttered. "I'm not allowed."

"I'll go get Hobard. Here, take the baby," Tilly said. Marin dropped the bags he'd been carrying and Tilly placed the small bundle into his now empty arms. "Watch her neck," she cautioned.

Marin looked down, at a loss for words. The baby squirmed and mewed. Alive and strong. He'd never held such a newly born babe before. Hobson's children were several months old before Marin had first met them. And medics rarely dealt with infants. This was the realm of women. Yet, this baby seemed to fit perfectly in his arms. He was so enamored by her chubby cheeks and dimpled chin that he didn't even notice Tilly walk away.

He'd never known how quickly one could fall in love. But as he held this unnamed girl in his arms, he knew he had fallen under her spell, and that he would do anything to keep her safe and well. As he continued to gaze and the small face looking back at him, Tilly's crazy idea now made perfect sense. Everything made perfect sense.