"Make you kiss a horse." he grumbled, getting to his feet and taking the robe. Sliding it on, he blearily looked at the girls in his bed.
Grinning, he turned back to his sister. "If you must rouse me at such a dreadful hour, the least you could do is bring me breakfast." he said with a mighty yawn that may have reeked of beer, wine, and women.
"And beer." he added hopefully, heading for his garderobe for what promised to be a truly epic piss.
Sure enough, he didn't emerge again for what must have been a short eternity. One splash for the pot, another for his washbasin being upended over his head. A soldier's shower, but it did the job. For a certain value of washed, of course.
"Wait. Married?" he said, his robe sopping wet about the shoulders and front from his impromptu dunking. "I can't be staring at every ugly sister and upjumped farmer's daughter without beer!"