He sighed, pulling off his nightclothes and splashing himself with the warm water from the tub. There was a bar of soap and a bottle of lavender water, and Killian was soon washed, standing in his breeches at the window and looking out across the glen. It was set to be a fine day, the sun already high above the mountain tops, casting its rays on the shimmering loch. The bells of the abbey were tolling, and Killian imagined the monks, in their black habits, filing into the church to pray.
