Nadya’s head was swimming; she hardly knew where she was, even who she was, any more.  She had never known such bliss from a mere kiss before, and she did not want it to end.  But he pushed her from him, and through the mist she heard him croaking ‘Go.’  Why?  Was she not beautiful?   Did he think she was some foolish slut like the other maids, who spread their legs for any oaf stinking of sweat and manure?  Bewilderment, disappointment and shame brought a furious flame to her cheeks .   She stumbled to the door through a haze of tears, her legs oddly rubbery.  Wulf was waiting in the hall, and his face paled as he saw her.   He took her arm and gently guided her down onto his own stool, muttering soothing nothings.  She caught at his calloused hand, clutching it desperately.  ‘I thought he wanted to - he was embracing me, but then he made me leave.  Did I do something wrong?  What did I do?’<br/><br/>The squire bent over the sobbing girl, praying that no-one would come by while she was in this state.   He had seen them taken this way by the  Sanguine Kiss before, but he had not thought earthy little Nadya would be so vulnerable.  ‘It’s all right.’ he reassured as gently as he could.  ‘It’s just,  he made a vow of celibacy.  It isn’t you, it’s his promise to God.  Here, let’s wipe away these tears and you have a drop of brandy from old Wulf’s flask, eh?  Look on it as a compliment, girly;  you’re lovely enough to make a saint forget his vows, so you are.’  She managed a giggle at that, and relief coursed through him.  She wasn’t too badly damaged,  though he would have to keep her away from the master for a while and give her time to replenish her blood.  He held the flask for her, tilting it carefully so she did not get much of the alcohol.  She swallowed and smiled up at him tipsily.  Good, the brandy had worked rapidly on her weakened state.  Now she looked like she had been drinking, not being drunk.  He lifted her to her feet and helped her through to the porch, calling over a kitchen maid who was hanging around the well.  ‘Get her to bed, she’s had a drop too much.’   There would be talk among the servants, of course, but better they think she had been plied with drink by Wulf than suspect the truth.  And now to see what kind of state the lord of the manor was in…<br/>