For once in his life, Bash began to realise that the relationship between him and Francis was more that brother and brother. It was king to a lesser man. He was illegitimate. Francis would soon come into his own power and realise that Bash was a threat. He might even send him away on a war or far off mission. And it did not help that his eyes were always fixated on Mary. Bash recalled the angry words Francis had thrown into the air. Words that sounded like orders. Real, royal orders. Mary was to see other men, but not him. Not the future kings brother. But he wasn't really his brother anyway. So what. They shared a father. A father who probably had 100 other children considering the amount of mistresses he enjoyed.

Bash remembered the first time he realised he was not to be a prince. Francis had been invited to a grand ball, a celebration of the birthday of a six year old princess. The queen, his father the king and Francis were being prepared by their servants. Bash had run up to the queen and asked her what he was going to wear. Catherine had laughed and cruelly told him that the ball was only for real princes. Bash had cried that night to his mother. He was seven. He asked why his mother was not the queen, when his father was the king. She had stroked his hair and told him he was the fun prince, never having to do boring affairs of state and still being able to live in the castle. She explained that Catherine was cruel to them only because she knew just how much of a threat they were to her own young son Francis. Apart from that incident, Bash had never really wondered about the difference between him and his younger brother. At least not until he reached an age where the truth was to be understood. He was an outsider in his own family. His own home.

"Bash!" Mary called out, running as fast as her dress would permit.

Bash turned around, the words of his brother echoing in his ears. He was not meant to even go close to Mary. He breathed in, steadying himself, which of course was a mistake as he breathed in Mary's heady floral and feminine scent.

"Your Grace" he answered formally. By being distant, maybe she'd understand how far apart they really were.

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm not angry about the whole sacrifice thing. It wasn't your fault. I may have been afraid but I was never angry. And I still want to be your friend" she said, showing disrespect to the words of Francis, and secretly making Bash's heart soar.

"Your Highness, my brother the future king of France has ordered me to keep my arms off you. And you may be beautiful, but you are not worth being imprisoned, or worse, for." Bash said coldly, turning on his heel and leaving Mary dumbfounded. He would never in a million years admit that he'd risk execution for her, that he'd take a sword for her, that he had never for one moment been afraid in the Bloodwood because he knew he was there to protect her. She should never know these things. These were not things a bastard should think about his royal brothers future wife.

Mary stood and watched as Bash left. She knew she loved Francis more than anyone, so why did she feel a piece of her heart break when Bash walked away? Was it possible to give a heart to two different people? The romance stories Mary had always begged Alaina, the one nun in the convent who had stolen these books from a sordid library in Turkey to read to her always clearly stated that the princess was rescued and then fell in love with the prince and then rode off into the sunset with said prince. Mary struggled to recall if these princes ever had handsome, kind brothers who rode into evil woods to save them. She sat by the window and watched the sun set over the grounds, something which always calmed her back at the convent.

"Your highness, may I sit with you?" Mary heard the accented voice of Olivia. She felt a zing of hatred flow through her but remembered her place as future queen, and the need to act with grace.

"Of course" she replied calmly. Olivia shot her a smirk and her blue eyes betrayed the jealousy she felt inside. Olivia sat down and for a moment admired the sunset.

"Francis loves me too you know" she said bluntly. Mary resented how Olivia always seemed kind in the beginning and then just turned into a malicious girl two minutes later.

"He loved you in the past. He loves me now" Mary said with more surety than she actually felt. Olivia gave one of her smirks again.

"Is that why he asked for freedom to see other people? He's bending the rules of engagement for me" she said haughtily. Any other queen to be would have felt outrage at being disrespected this way by a non royal. Mary only felt sadness.

"He is free to ask anything of me. He is the future king of France, and of he is to be my husband it is best we agree on a few things" Mary said firmly, enjoying just for a moment watching Olivia squirm. She excused herself and walked towards the sunset. Her problems could wait until tomorrow.

Olivia sat watching the sunset alone for a while. She had kissed Francis last night but he had stopped everything. He had actually blushed and she knew Mary was on his mind. She had been hoping that he would sleep with her. This time she would be pregnant with the future prince of France. Her powers of seduction had never failed her before, in fact she found it quite easy to convince men of all social standings to spend the night with her. She huffed. The queen wanted her pregnant. She would obey gladly. She hoped deep down Francis still loved her somewhat. Noticing she was alone she decided to slip out of the castle grounds and into the local tavern and inn, which always served the best mead and wine in the kingdom. She walked into the bar with her red velvet hood drawn around her Lucious blonde curls. She spotted Bash sitting, brooding into an empty jar of wine.

"Bash, what brings you here, so far from the castle" she said softly, moving closer to him. A plan was already forming in her mind.

"Everything in the castle makes me crazy" Bash slurred. This was clearly not his first round of drinks.

"Everything... Or everyone?" She said winking and wrapping her arm around his broad shoulders. Bash looked at her hazily.

"I think she loves me back" Bash almost whispered. He stumbled and knocked a chair over, earning a grin from the bartender.

"Even the royals can't hold down their liquor" the portly old man grinned.

Bash looked up, anguish in his electric blue eyes. His hair covered half of their glare.

"I'm not a royal" he almost growled and stormed out. Olivia followed quickly. This seduction would be the easiest by far. He was vulnerable now.

Olivia followed Bash further and deeper into the forest, until she noticed they were no longer on the Kings Road.

"Bash, do you know where you're going?" Olivia called, brushing away pangs of fear.

"Just a bit further" he slurred. Olivia panicked. If someone were to attack them, Bash was in no state to fight them off. He could barely put one foot in front of the other. Olivia looked around her.

"Bash," she said in horror, "we're in the Bloodwood".