She listened to him, taking a few sips from the flask herself. It was probably a good thing that they had the flask in the first place. His story was hard to swallow. It was interesting, learning about all of these things that were to come. She tried picturing the things he talked about and she was sure whatever her imagination cooked up wasn't going to compare to the real thing. When he spoke of wars, especially the one that was going on now, she frowned. Why did war always have to happen? This war wasn't pointless, they'd be a free country. She was particularly interested in his personal history. She had invited this kan into her home, so she felt entitled to know something about him. The alcohol loosened his lips and she watched him carefully. 

When he spoke of marriage and how he'd never settled down she couldn't help the bitter look that she got. "My husband told me the same thing. That I was a good woman and he didn't think himself as worthy." Keziah started telling him about Charles. How they had met (ironically they'd met as children. He had been Peter's cousin, an orphan from an early age who had gone to live with his aunt and uncle on a farm near Lexington.) She told him about the wedding and how blows had nearly been thrown because the men brought out alcohol. Keziah explained how her mother-in-law had been displeased that her son had married so young, and that his bride had been five years younger. Even now it was a bit uncommon to find a young bride. Most tried to put off marriage for aslong as they could.

"He died a few months into our marriage." She'd been keeping her voice low so their guards wouldn't hear. "He got sick with a fever. I...I tried everything I could have to save him and I failed. How can you call me a good woman when I let my husband die?" She asked him, her whisper straining with the effort to not cry. Keziah feared that she'd spoken too much and she moved away, into the bedroom. When she looked outside through the lone window in the bedroom it was nighttime. Keziah sifhed and pulled off her frilled cap before tossing it to the side and bringing her braid over her shoulder so she could untie the ribbon that held it. 

She sat on the edge of the bed, blinking away her tears. When none fell she shuffled around the room and changed into her night clothes. It was a bit awkward that the soldiers could peer into the room if they chose to look through the windows. 

After she was changed, Keziah went back out to sit by he fireplace. She was a bit bothered by the fact that this man was still a stranger, even though she knew everything about him, or about as close to everything as she could get. She still couldn't wrap her head around the fact that he wasn't even from now. Keziah pulled her long, loose hair over her shoulder and played with the ends. "Will I ever get home?" She asked him, dropping her hands from her hair and twisting them together in her lap.