The Royal Captive; Fire in Fermanagh

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Lovelyscribe

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The Princess Mary Tutor was traveling by carriage, on her way back to her home in London.

Outside she had an escort of six knighted horsemen, ensuring she returned safely. Inside her lady-in-waiting, Claudette Neuville kept her company. Both the Princess and Claudette were wearing black traveling gowns, still mourning the sudden passing of King Louis XII of France. Because the ride from the docks had been dreadfully quiet, the princess broke the silence.

“You’ve never seen English land before, Claudette… Do you find it as beautiful as France?”

Claudette being a rather spacey young girl didn’t answer at first. Mary simply cleared her throat and repeated herself,
“Certainly beautiful! My Lady…” the maid finally answered, and Mary nodded with approval.

“Yes, beautiful.” She murmured with a small smile, happy that she was no longer queen consort of France. In fact, she hoped that she would never have to see France again! While other women would have died to be in her position, Mary saw those sorts of women as fools. Royalty came with a price and she’d learned long ago that she would be a caged bird. All her life she'd been living cages, disguised as a castle. Still though, Hamton Palace would be a sight for sore eyes. What she didn’t tell her lady-in-waiting, or anyone for that matter, was that she planned on eloping with Charles Brandon as soon as she could. She peered out the window as she imagined a simple wedding, one that wasn’t a spectacle, one where she would be standing across from a man she truly loved.

Of course she knew her brother would be against this… because even though King Henry VIII of England favored him, Charles wasn’t a well-liked person in court. No matter, she could convince him, they’d always been close. Besides, Henry Promised her that if she outlived her poor old late husband she would be allowed to marry who she liked!

Suddenly her thoughts were interrupted by the carriages sudden halt.
 
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Sean Kelly came riding down the road to meet with the four other rebels. They knew three others would intercept their target and they would attack the rear guards. Anxious for battle, one spoke to ease his nerves.
"A real princess?"
Sean glanced to the man who said it. "Aye." He didn't have much to say on the matter, he would have sooner slit her throat than have to bring her back. This wasn't what Hugh Maguire ordered them to do however. Something he didn't concern himself with.
The anxious soldier continued.
"What do you think she looks like?"
"Probably a hag like the rest of the saxons."
Sean really couldn't care less. To him, she was as rotten as her father.

Farther down the road, three horsemen stopped to block the path for the incoming escort. The first knights ordered them to clear the way but they stayed stubbornly. Some excuse about waiting for the cows, some nonsense excuse. They were simply buying time for their comrades to come barreling in.
They did soon enough. The rear knights turned to the sound of pounding hooves. He would soon be knocked to the ground with a battle cry.
 
When they halted to a stop, Mary opened her window and peeked out. Seeing the men up ahead she had a bad feeling.

“Why have we stopped?” Claudette asked with a shake of her voice. Somehow Mary was calm, but before she could answer the maid she heard a savage battle cry from behind and a thump. Her heart sank. Suddenly the door to her right swung open and one of her knights had dismounted to get her out. Quickly she pulled Claudette out with her. There wasn’t any time to ask what was happening, and she could hear her poor maid crying behind her. Terrified.

The guard who escorted her out was following close behind as they ran into the woods. After hearing that they were being pursued by one of the highwaymen, he yelled “Keep going!”

Mary looked back as they ran and found he was staying behind to bravely hold off the highwaymen. Were they just highwaymen? Not necessarily, possibly rebels... she didn't know which was better or worse. The Princess kept hold of her maid’s hand as they ran through the woods. She didn’t have hope to get away though, she was sure of this because they were outnumbered and she couldn’t outrun horses.

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Eventually they found themselves on the grounds of an abandoned church, it was exquisitely beautiful but Mary didn’t have time to admire it. She pulled Claudette behind a stone wall and hid themselves. With her maid still crying she pressed her index finger to her lips and shushed the girl.
“Hush… I need you to listen to me.”

Claudette sniffed, “My Lady?”

“You have my purse?”

“Yes my lady…” Claudette offered it to Mary as if it would help, and Mary shook her head and gave the girl a sad smile.

"I have a feeling it's not money they want." The Princess sighed and pointed in the direction their carriage had been originally traveling. “You need to run. Run far enough that you’re sure you’re not being followed, and then make your way back to the highway.” Mary then took off her pendant, “The guards in London will recognize this crest, tell them you need to speak with the king, and tell my brother what happened.”

Charles will save me... She assured herself, Henry will send him and his best trackers...

“I can’t…” The maid said pitifully and Mary gave her a stern look,

“Be brave child! You go now, you'll be more likely to survive” Mary said firmly and pushed her maid in the direction she pointed. “Now go!”

Still crying Claudette ran, and Mary felt a small bit of relief. Then she peeked out from behind the old church wall waiting for her pursuers to catch up. Then she would run further and lead them far away from Claudette, she decided.
 
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As they rode nearer, a fair haired head could be seen peering from her carriage. Soon after, two women were being led away by a knight into the woods.

One of the men who formed the blockade shouted to the other riders.

"Sean! Kevin! Fetch them!"

Why me? For better or worse, he was chosen for his naivete and fierce hatred of anyone with any connection to the crown. He didn't want to see her live in the first place. He hoped he would only have to lead her back, and not be the one guarding her back at camp.
The two gave chase, only stopping to fight the guard who tried to hold them off.

Outnumbered, it was in vain. However, Kevin's horse took a nasty blow and toppled to the ground. The two men battered him. Drops of blood splattered onto Sean's face, only adding to his savage appearance.

"Go back, you're no use on foot. Steal one of theirs."

Sean rode alone trying to find the woman. They couldn't have gone far. Probably their first time in the woods. He rode until he came upon the remnants of a church. A perfect place to hide from a pursuit. Or stage a counter attack. Perhaps she wanted to say her final prayers before death.

He shouted to whoever may be there. "Hey! If you don't run, we won't kill you! We won't even torture you!" The first was guaranteed. He couldn't kill her no matter how badly he wanted to. Torture? It was less likely but still possible.

Dismounting, his mail jingled as he hit the ground. He walked to the church, sword drawn, prepared for someone to drive a dagger into him. It gave him a weird feeling in his gut, walking to what used to be a church with a weapon drawn. These were the circumstances put onto him and he couldn't change them.
 
Mary didn't need to wait long, because soon she'd heard the sound of a single horse, and a man dismounting. For a moment she thought, perhaps my knight survived... but alas, no. Hearing what the man said she laughed softly, more for her silly wishful thought of possibly being saved before anything could turn out worse.

"I take it, you're not mere highwaymen then!" she mused and stepped out into view,

In the light he would get a good look at her. Her hair was a light strawberry blonde, with light brows and fair skin. She was slight, with an hourglass figure. Her late husband had called her a 'nymph from heaven' though she didn't much care for that nickname.
When she spoke, her voice was soft and sweet.

"How many good men died this day?" she inquired, making no move toward or away from him.
"All six of my escort, any of your men? Better to pray for any of them here, then wherever you plan to take me." she paused and cocked her head slightly as she had another question,

"Did they fight and die well at least?" there was a sad note in her tone, as she looked at the blood on his face. For a moment her eyes were downcast and she was quiet.

"Good men, for what cause pray tell?" Was she stalling or Just curious? Possibly a little bit of both, whatever the cause she silently prayed for the fallen. When she was done she took her time to admire the church while she could, she touched the stone walls and smiled. "Earlier you said I wouldn't be tortured if I didn't run, but I wonder, is that your promise to give?" She studied him for a moment, gauging if he was the leader in whatever cause this might be.
 
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Sean smiled at the assumption. Highway men?
"And you're no nun." He had to admit she was more clever than he anticipated. As she came into view, an instinctual desire came over him. This would be easier if she were a crone. Regardless, she was English royalty, and this meant she was an enemy to him and Ireland.

She asked him about good men and he had to be honest with her. She probably thought he was vile dolt. "You'll find no good men in these parts." How many died though? "At least two are dead. You're alone, so probably three. We'll find out soon enough." "At least two are dead. You're alone so probably three." He had no clue about her maid. She may die in the woods.

He approached her, fearing this was all just a distraction for her to flee. As he moved his figure was indistinguishable under his worn green tunic and mail. What does she care if they fought well anyway? Hundreds have died already, and they will only be remembered by their families they leave behind.

He sheathed his sword and was now standing next to her. "To free Erin's Isle from your damned king." He spoke of it with pride. He still didn't know if she was the princess, but he knew she was definitely English.

Hearing her question made him pause. He truly didn't know. Sean pondered for moment before answering her. "You're right, it's not my promise to make. I can't speak for the rest." "You're right. It's not my promise to make. I can't speak for the rest." He only had command over his riders.

He grabbed her wrist, his hand wrapping around it. "Come with me." He didn't trust that she would come willingly. "Will you jump when we ride or shall I bind you?" He was indifferent on the matter. If he were allowed, he would drag her there.
 
Her brows furrowed as he stated she'd find no good men in these parts, he meant no good Englishmen or his own men? She didn't bother asking, she simply nodded, "Ah..." she mused, "I suppose we will." she murmured.

When he assumed she was alone she peeked at him shrugged, because how would he know if her maid wasn't still hiding behind the old church wall. Still if he didn't ask about Claudette, she didn't have to tell him anything about her maid running away to seek help from her brother. "Aye, I'm alone." she said truthfully.

When he told her his cause she looked a little surprised, "Oh! Interesting..." she smiled softly, she couldn't say that her life would be uneventful at this point, though short it could be. She would be kidnapped by Irishmen! If she survived it would be a story to tell!

She looked at him when he said she'd been right about him not being the leader, but when he grabbed her wrist she instinctively tried to pull away, and failed. Grimacing she frowned, "Jump from a horse? You think me daft!" clearly more offended then angry about him threatening to tie her up. She was indeed not daft, she had more chances to escape if she wasn't tied up. "Clearly I have no choice but to go with you!" It would also be better if he thought her frail as she looked, so she gave him a pitiful look, "Good sir, you're hurting me."
 
Interesting? She thought it was merely interesting. It angered him. Many material things-how the crops knew when to bloom- that was interesting to Sean. Fighting to free his home land? It was all his life was about now.

When she tried pulling away from him he didn't budge. He smiled at her retort. "Neigh. I know you're English. One and the same." Truth be told, this was the first time he had spoken to any one English. Any of his other interactions were only with soldiers.

"True." She was sharp, and it appeared she wanted Sean to know it. When she claimed she was in pain, it enraged him. "Really?" Putting his free hand into a fist, clocking his arm back ready to knock her down. "I can do a lot worse!"

Despite his threat, he moved his grip to her bicep. He didn't care if she was in pain, he was concerned that he may pull her hand off if he dragged her. "Now come."

He went towards his horse with her in tow. He didn't slow down or make sure she could keep up. He would pull her along. Hell, he'd have her through the forest if he wouldn't be chastised for it. His horse waited obediently where he had dismounted.

"Now," he paused as he mounted. "Can you get up on your own?" He had the strength to lift her onto his horse, he had lifted heavier creatures. But he would rather not if it wasn't necessary
 
She could see he was not amused, but why shouldn't she find this situation interesting? He had no idea how boring life in France had been, no one was fun!

She didn't bother to explain that though, he would only mock her for being spoiled. He wouldn't be wrong. She only asked for the number of casualties when she's been in danger. Another reason she should find this situation interesting, she was clearly sheltered.

"Aye, English." She agreed as he pointed out what they both knew. He saw her as his enemy, and she didn't know why he hated her so. She knew her father wasn't loved by all, same for her brother of course.

She didn't bother to claim innocence, or that she was not worthy of his hate.

She flinched when he threatened to hit her, should she be scared of him? Certainly. Was she? Perhaps now. She's never been struck so her soft defiance faded slightly. Clearly acting pitiful wouldn't work on him, she wouldn't try that again.

When he moved his grip and pulled her along she didn't fight him, though naturally she almost stumbled and struggled to keep up.

When they reached the horse, she waited for him to mount quietly.

She peered at the horse and huffed if he asked if she could get up herself. She lifted her skirt and slowly climbed on the horse. At least she didn't have to ride side saddle!

By this point she's decided to be defiant with silence, though her captors might prefer it anyway.
 
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Threatening her seems to have changed her tune. Whatever it took to bring her to Maguire and get her out of his hair, he would do it.

At least she can get up herself. He felt it was necessary to warn her. "This mare, she's a quick devil." He said it with pride, even with it being a stolen horse. "Suggest you hold on." Although he would rather not have her wrap herself around him, there wasn't much else for her to grab. Besides, he had a feeling she had a fear of falling off, so he would ride as fast as he could. Her arms around him were a small price to pay for the opportunity to terrorize her.

Without warning they set off through the forest. They quickly passed the slaughtered knight and Kevin's horse. Sean saw it, but spoke nothing of it. He didn't speak again until they returned to the road where the carriage was ambushed.

"Aye lads! Look at the whore I found!" Although he hated her, he did feel a sense of accomplishment in finding her. The same he would feel as if he had found gold during a raid. The others had already started looting the carriage and the bodies that lay around it. Surveying the area and counting on fingers, he had a number for her. "Six. Seven with your friend."
 
Slowly she wrapped her arms around his waist to hold on. She appreciated it even if it wasn't meant to be a kindness.

She held on as the horse raced through the woods, she'd squeezed her eyes shut almost the entire time. But she did see the face of one who died protecting her. At that moment she actually worried that could have also been her lovers fate if he attempted to rescue her.

When they'd arrived she ignored Sean's insult. Still refusing to speak or even show that she felt upset by it. She gazed at each of the fallen when Sean gave her a number.

She was looking for said 7th.

She helped herself down when after Sean had a chance to dismount.

"By my friend you mean the handmaid, Claudette?" Her expressions was worried, then solemn, "I'm sorry this was her first experience on English land. I told her to take my purse and try to find a ship to take her back to France." She lied easily, "better that then be slaughtered for a cause that doesn't involve her."

Better they thought the innocent girl was dead or trying to get home. Perhaps they won't have reason to look for her.

No matter, that was all she had to say. Mary patiently waited to be lead to the leader. She wasn't going to bother with Sean anymore. She hadn't insulted him once, and she still had no intention to. So simply let him pass her off to whoever wanted to make use of her.
 
Her arms around his torso was the first feminine touch he'd felt in years. The last was an embrace from his mother before he left home.

When they arrived he watched her dismount. He was with his comrades, and it started to calm him. "I don't know her name. I don't even know yours." All Sean knew was he saw three people run to the woods. He killed one, and brought one back.

"Well I hope she returns safely." He bit his tongue when she mentioned them being on English land. He did feel sympathy for her maid, he didn't want any more innocent lives lost in this war.

A man approached the two, Michael Caulfield. He was the brains of the group. "Sean, you've returned."
"Aye. With her even."
"I see that."
Michael was much calmer and more polite than Sean. He was also nearly twice his age.
"Who do you want me to bring her to?" Sean was eager to offload her to someonelse, and he imagined she wanted to someone else as well.
"Well, seeing as you did such a fine job finding her, she should be kept with you."
Sean looked defeated. "Please, can anyone else?" He didn't want to watch over her for days. He wanted to race home with his fellow riders.
"Why? It's no different than caring for cattle, is it not?" His leader knew how to use each of the men at his disposal. His explanation didn't satisfy Sean. He was brash and full of hate, not a caretaker. But he couldn't argue.
"No sir..." he replied looking to the ground. Turning around to his horse he muttered "I guess we'll mount up."
"No need," interrupted Michael, "take the carriage."
Sean sighed, hating how the day had turned out.
 
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When he stated that he didn't know her name she shrugged, "No I suppose you don't ask for names politely before you fight someone to the death." She told him, "which is why I thought she'd have a better chance if she escaped by herself, rather than I selfishly follow. She has a chance and that's all I could give her.

Was there a point in telling him her name? She decided not.

When he stated that he also hoped the maid escaped unscathed she softened slightly to him, at least they could agree on her maids innocence.

Mary looked up to see the would be leader approach. She peered to him silently because he had yet to address her. Hearing that the leader thought it was best for her to stay with the Sean she stiffened.

Though she had no reason for complaining, as she wasn't going to be treated better by any of the other brutes.

She noted that Sean clearly didn't enjoy his task of watching over the prisoner. Now she was deciding if she could have an advantage somehow. If he was watching her alone... Maybe she could find a opportunity to get away.

Seeing this Sean fellow disheartened at the end of it, she attempted to soften him up.

"Well Sir Sean, if you care to know, my name is Mary." She gave him a sweet smile, "no need for titles, just Mary will suffice. It would come off as condescending anyway." She told him, "and your master was right. We shouldn't waste a perfectly good carriage considering I'm sure you were going to take the horses anyway. We shouldn't be wasteful!"

She wondered if they had taken her clothes too... "Might I just keep one dress?" She asked hopefully, "this black dress is for mourning and I feel wearing it for too long will send me into a depression. A depressed songbird will only depress those who hear it's song. So perhaps tonight I'll wear this dress tonight to mourn my fallen knights. They were more deserving than my late husband that's for sure! Then tomorrow I'll wear something with a little bit of color?"

She'd abruptly dropped her silent defiance, but only because she didn't want both of them to be miserable. If she promised to behave, it might make these next few days easier.
 
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Maybe this woman was more honorable than he first believed. Letting an innocent woman flee. Was this her admitting her guilt? He didn't know. Sean wasn't too much of a thinker, and couldn't be bothered to ponder it any further.

Hearing her name surprised him, seeing as she seemed so opposed to telling him just a moment ago. "Mary?" He always liked the name, he knew it well, if not for his prayers. "Full of grace.." he mumbled as she continued about titles. He didn't care for her calling Michael his master. He wasn't his slave. Her rationale behind using the carriage wasn't flawed, and she was right. Sean wanted to ride, wanted to race back on horseback. "If we weren't going take it, we would have torched it by now."

She asked about her dresses and he thought she was crazy. "What in god's name do you think we're gonna do with them? Who the fuck would want them?" He looked to some of the riders still looting. "Ay! Keep her dresses lads." He did it partly because he wanted to show her he had some control over the situation. It was also out of curiosity. He wanted to see her wearing something different. Hearing of her late husband didn't make him sympathetic, he was probably a royal bastard too.

He reached for the carriage door and opened it for her. "Go on then." He had never ridden in such a thing and wasn't sure about the whole thing. "Kevin, take my horse then." He shouted to him, hoping at least one of them could have fun on the ride back.
 
Mary rewarded him with a sweet smile as he said her name, though it was more in question. She hadn't heard him mumbling about grace.

Calling Michael his master wasn't intended to irritate, it was simply an observation to her that Sean wasn't making all the decisions. Of course she knew he was not a slave, but a servant to the cause? Higher in the pecking order but still willing to die for his cause. Like others would die for their Lord and King? If he got offended over that she didn't seem too concerned.

In fact irritating him a little could be fun she decided, as he'd called her a whore before... for what? To get positive attention from the men... yeah... men liked to show off that they were in control of her. All her life, showing her and everyone else that she had no true choice of her life.

Hearing that they would have torched the wagon made her roll her eyes, would be a waste for how much it was worth. When he acted like her dresses would be no use to them and then turned around and told his men to take them anyway she sighed.

"The dresses, and the carriage are expensive... if you don't have use of them you could try and sell them for your cause." she said suggested simply, "If anything sell for scraps because every dress I've had is made of high quality material. Either way," she was quiet for a moment as if it was finally sinking in, "I likely won't need them." If she was going to die in the end.

After taking a moment to inhale and exhale she continued on a cheerful note, "Though if you or your lads have mothers, wives... sisters?" she shrugged as she followed him to the carriage, "Scraps can be made into something new, like a skirt or shawl. I'm sure if you were to hand it to them someone would find use for it."

As he opened the carriage door she gave him a gentle smile, "Chivalry looks good on you, thank you." she said as she climbed in, better to encourage good morale between the two of them.
 
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As he listened to her go on about the dresses.. she was right. It pained him to admit it, so he only said it softly. "You're right." Was she really the princess? She seemed to have some ideas about leadership, or at the very least logistics. Did princesses even deal with that sort of thing? Were they in charge of anybody, or did they sit around all day, waiting to be married? He didn't have a clue.

A wave of sorrow came over him when she mentioned mothers and sisters. "How do you think they'd get them? We can't exactly trot home any time we'd like." She was right. Dammit, she was completely right. It would hurt his pride too much to admit it outright. He would wait until she was inside and then round up the dresses.

He didn't know what that word meant, but the way she had said it made it sound like something admirable to have. He smiled as she entered. "
Aye, thank you." Once she was inside, he quickly went to the men still looting. "Give me the dresses." They gave him hell for it.
"You change your mind already? Think they'd look good on you?" "What for? Are ye gonna put them on yerself?" "You think she's gonna let you under her skirt for it?"

"Ah shut yer gob!" He shouted, grabbing any dress he laid eyes on, hastily shoving them under his arm.

"No riding for you, huh Sean?" "Fuck off Kieran." He quickly went back to the carriage, a ball of dresses under his arm. He struggled to climb in, never doing it before. Staggering at first, he managed to join Mary. "I got what I could." He tried to play it off as if he hadn't just gone against his previous orders. He couldn't let her think he would follow her every word. He sat, looking around inside the carriage, examining everything. "You keep anything to drink here?"
 
She hadn't heard him admit she was right, would it have gone to her head? Probably!

All of the dresses happened to be from her year as the Queen of France. She'd always been frugal, and the dresses themselves held no sentimental value to her... but she still hated the idea of having so many dresses that go to waste. Most of the times she gave her excess to her attending ladies, they wanted the treasures more than she ever did.

His question about how his riders would get the dresses back to their loved ones made her pause as she sat, however she didn't have time to retort before the door was quickly shut. Mary blinked as she concluded that Sean had left to take care of something important. She waited quietly completely oblivious what her captor was doing. When he returned with a arm full of dresses her brows furrowed in confusion, saying 'he got what he could...' She pursed her lips as she wondered what this was all about.

"So you do have special woman you should save the dresses for." She grinned as she thought she figured it out, "Hope you're able to sail home to deliver them soon." She didn't know if that would happen for him though, considering he was prepared to die for Ireland's independence.
She hoped he wouldn't be dying for the cause, Sean wasn't a bad man... maybe just a gruff sort. How could she really tell? Just the feeling, she hoped she wasn't wrong.

She examined the pile and quickly plucked out one and set it beside her lap. It wasn't the fanciest, but still had some nice colors to it. It was so plain that it would make her appear as a common woman after she'd put it on. For all she knew it have been Claudette's dress and accidentally packed up with her own.

When he asked about drink she rose a brow and then shifted to open a compartment which must have been missed by the looters. She handed him a bottle of French Wine. "Nothing like it in England, and the only things in France I did enjoy." she admitted with a small smile, "I don't know if you'll like it though... it's an acquired taste..." She watched him do with it as he pleased, "Where are we going?" she asked softly as she looked out the window, "Then what happens after?"
 
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She was asking about a special woman? Was she prying or merely curious? "Well... no." The closest relationship he had was with a girl from his home village. A seamstress named Pheobe, only two years younger than him. "I haven't seen her in two summers." Should he try to give her a dress? It was pointless, there was still no way for him to bring it to her, just as he couldn't bring anything to his mother. The only thing he could give his mother would be a letter, that would have to be read to both of them.

Glancing to Mary, he knew she was probably literate. All kings and queens are. Only the clergymen he knew were literate. When she mentioned sailing, his heart sank. He missed his home, but he was here for purpose. "It isn't as simple as just sailing home." He didn't want to get into a lecture on motives and principles.

His interest focused on her as she moved the dresses. "Why that one?" He still hated her for being English, but he may as well do his best to not make the ride miserable. His mother's nicest gown was nearly as fancy as the one she had picked.

When she pulled a bottle, Sean perked up. "France? You been there a lot?" She did mention it an awful lot. Did he have the wrong person? Was she really a French princess? But with English guards... unlikely. He opened the bottle once she handed it to him, sniffing it cautiously. He could faintly smell alcohol. With a shrug, he put his lips to the bottle and took a swig. "It's not whiskey.." He really couldn't complain. It might have been the only thing she had to drink.

"We aren't going to France, I'll tell you that." He smiled, "back to camp, to regroup. And I get to deal with you." He was leaving out all the other things they had to do when they returned. He didn't care to look out the window, it was just the countryside, he had seen it hundreds of times before. He was watching her, observing her, and wouldn't look away even if her eyes met his. Who was she? "As if I haven't been punished enough," he mumbled loud enough to be heard. There was nothing Sean wanted more than to just get drunk after a successful battle, but now she was his responsibility.
 
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She wasn't asking, she was assuming. He was handsome enough, why wouldn't he have a sweetheart?
Interesting though she seemed to be partially right, she mused to herself with a small smile. So there was someone in his heart... but he hadn't seen her for a long time. She hadn't seen Charles for a year. Her eyes lowered as she thought of Charles.

Her eyes flickered up to look at Sean, when he stated that sailing home wasn't 'simple'. Which made her seem confused and when he didn't continue she sighed. Did he think she couldn't possibly understand? She frowned slightly as she thought about it, no... she didn't understand him. She was trying to though... one had to understand her enemy... Just because he had started treating her better didn't mean she wouldn't try to find an opportunity to get away. If Charles came for her save her, he would very possibly die trying... but if she could escape make her way to London? Could she save both of them?

When he spoke again she looked at him, "what?" then she followed his eyes, "oh..."
She blinked a few times, "I like simple dresses." she shrugged, and she also thought it would be easier to move in if she attempted to sneak away. Maybe to bathe? she'd have to make a plan later... or sooner... depended on when the opportunity presented itself.

When his other question came up she looked perplexed, "So you really know nothing about me." she laughed humorlessly, as if her being english was all he needed to know? Oh no... because of her father and brother. "If you see me as the enemy, you should really find out more about them huh?"

her expression was a little bitter as she realized they were doing the same thing, learning about their enemy.

Patiently she explained, "My late husband was the prior King of France. It was the marriage alliance arranged by my brother." She laughed softly as he stated they weren't going to France, "Good!"

She didn't speak for a while until he said something about being punished, "Punishment... I don't think your leader is punishing you... he's testing you." she stated her theory, "Testing your capability to get close to me, and get information out of me." then she explained her reasoning, "because I came willingly I suppose."

She sighed as she was finally getting tired, and leaned her head against the window. She was was so exhausted that she continued talking, "An opportunity really." she closed her eyes, "It's possible if you succeed he plans to promote you for a higher leadership position."
 
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Her explanation on her dress was good enough for him, and he didn't press it any further. When she said he didn't know anything about her he was surprised. What did she expect?

"I just met you. I know you're Mary. You're English." He knew he should know more about her, but the time to question her will come soon enough.

"Sorry about your husband." It didn't quite register yet with Sean that she said she was married to a king. "You mean you can't choose who you marry?" He said it with concern in his voice. He didn't think that was right. "Not even your da says?" He had never heard of it before. He didn't know what a marriage alliance was either.

She might not have seen it as a punishment, but to Sean it was. He could be out riding and raising hell in the countryside. But there he was, sitting in a carriage with a pile of dressed and a possible princess... he felt like he had been neutered.

"A promotion? What for? Finding a saxon in the woods and not killing her?" Besides, he couldn't be promoted much higher than Michael, unless Maguire himself had a say.

He refused to try and make himself comfortable. He knew they would have to leave when they went to their camp. "I suppose you'll be sleeping in my quarters.." calling them quarters was an overstatement. He merely slept in the upper floor of a barn they reclaimed. The barn itself was coming into view. Most of the rebels had already arrived, only two stayed with them to protect against a counter attack.
 
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