"He is as handsome as you described, Margaret." Michonne said as the two women made their way through the winding hallways of her future husband's home.

Shane Lyell was speaking to Sir Michel about the village and the isles they managed, but he made him no mind. He kept looking at back Michonne and Margaret as they giggled among themselves.

"What is so funny?" He interrupted Sir Shane.

"Nothing, Michel." Margaret answered for her mistress. "Women talk is all." She said as she pushed her mistress forward, not wanting to waste time on him. The other servants pretended to not have heard the exchange or the conversation prior and followed her Highness to her rooms.

The walls of the castle – or the fortress as Margaret called it – were covered in animal heads, trophies that Richard had killed, and rugs. The floors were bare and every step could be heard. When they made their way up the stairs to her rooms, Shane had bid them good evening, but Michel had stayed.

"We will be quite alright from here on out, Sir." Margaret said as she attempted to shut the door. Michonne thought she would be alone without her sister Lorraine, but she soon found that the company of Margaret was a much more pleasant one. Also, she kept Sir Michel at bay.

"Is that what the Princess says? He asked her.

"Yes." Michonne replied, looking at him. "I have Margaret and she will help me prepare for dinner." Michel still refused to budge. Michonne found his efforts annoying. "Leave us, that is an order." She said.

Michel nodded, bowed and allowed Margaret to shut the door on him.

"I told you." Margaret said before falling into a fit of laughter.

. . .

"Are you sure this is appropriate, Margaret?" Michonne asked as the two women looked at each other in the mirror that had been placed in her rooms.

"You look beautiful." Margaret whispered. "I'll miss you very much."

"You're not going anywhere, you're staying here with me. I cannot bare to be without you." Michonne said turning to her friend. It was not the night of the wedding, but in two day's time, she would be married. Her father and sister would be arriving tomorrow, but they too would be leaving. Then she would be alone except for Margaret.

"What if the King forbids me from staying?" Margaret asked.

"Then he will live a miserable life." Michonne replied.

The two girls laughed and Margaret wiped her tears. "You look beautiful and this is what you will wear to dinner. I shall not help you in another dress, I will not." She stomped. Michonne looked at the woman in the mirror and laughed.

"Very well, Miss Margaret has spoken." Margaret laughed as she went to grab her mistress' comb.

"Lord Richard will be pleased and Sir Michel will be jealous. I shall watch from the sides and laugh at his misery."

"Margaret!" Michonne shushed her.

"I do not car for him, he is as relevant as an ass is to a whore." She finished clipping Michonne's hair and walked to the door. "Your future husband awaits."

"You seem more excited about this than I do, why is that?" She raised an eyebrow at the girl.

"No reason at all, ma'am."

. . .

"Well, you are very beautiful." Richard admired as he kissed her hand.

"Thank you." She blushed. "I presume that you, Lord Richard, are pleased with my dress?"

"More than pleased." His eyes roamed her body involuntarily.

"Can you explain what this dinner is about? My father and sister are not present."

"I wanted to have dinner with you and your guests, is that so wrong?" He teased and she nearly huffed. She had dressed up for nothing.

"Yes actually, it is." She whispered into her goblet but he heard her. Michonne continued to watch the dancers dance seductively. If this was what her future husband expected of her, he was gravely mistaken.

She looked away, hiding her blush, but was surprised to find Richard staring at her. He leaned into her, "Meet me in my rooms after dinner, I want to speak to you privately."

She looked at him as he continued to eat and then at Margaret who was standing by the wall. She too had a look of shock in her eyes.

"Very well." Michonne was beginning to wonder if the stories she had heard whispered in the hallways were true. What if Richard was a madman? What if he was trying to harm her. She took another sip of her wine before excusing herself.

She paced in her rooms, Margaret sat at the head of the bed.

"We are to be married in two days."

"Yes." Margaret said.

"And he wants to meet me tonight."

"Yes."

"Is that not… Bad luck?"

"Pardon me, ma'am?"

"I read somewhere that when the groom – Richard – sees the bride – me – before the wedding, it is 'bad luck'."

"But he has already seen you."

"Not in private!"

"What about when you met him the first time?"

Michonne stayed quiet. She was trying to come up with a reason to not go up to his rooms tonight.

"I will stand right by the doors if anything, nothing will happen tonight, you have my word." She comforted the royal.

Michonne nodded and left her bedroom with her favourite servant in tow. The two women made their way to the third level of the fortress, to Richard's bedroom. Michonne breathed in and out shakily, trying to compose herself before she had to talk to him.

"I will leave you to it, then." Margaret said as she stepped back and away from the door.

Michonne knocked on the door and Richard opened it almost immediately, scaring the princess.

"You called, my Lord?" She asked.

"Yes, please come in." He gestured. She paused. "This will be your room soon." He said.

"You share rooms?" She asked as she looked around his room. Like the rest of the castle, it had animal heads and rugs on its floors and walls. The air however, was different. It smelled of wood and peppermint whereas the rest of the castle smelled like spices being cooked and sweat.

"I share everything." He replied.

"Even women?" She turned to face him once she had gotten familiar with the room.

"No." He said, blinking in surprise.

"I had heard that you and your uncle enjoy entertaining women at night, sharing them amongst the two of you." She said as she held up the skull of a small animal and put it down, disgusted. Richard made a mental note to get rid of them all.

"When I was a much younger man, my uncle and I did partake in... these activities, yes."

"Do you still partake in these activities?" She mimicked.

"No."

"And why not?"

"I am to be married-"

"To a woman you do not know." She interrupted. Richard smiled, she was not to be played a fool.

"To a woman I do not know." He locked his bedchamber door and walked to her. "Can I touch you?" He asked as he approached her.

"Why?"

"Because you are my wife."

"We are not yet married, my Lord."

"After we are married, I will be able to touch you whenever and however I want."

She glared at him this time. "You will do no such thing."

"I and I alone will be the only one to touch you. You will obey me."

She stared at him, her mouth coming open and her arms slowly drooping. "So this is but a marriage of convenience after all."

Richard straightened. "A trunk arrived for you this morn, in it a letter from your mother and your wet nurse." Michonne's eyes widened at his words. "I suspect that whatever else is in this trunk will be of use to you on our wedding night."

"Yes, of course." She said with tears in her eyes.

He blinked in surprise. "Are you ill?"

"No, tired."

"My mother left us both trunks before she died filled with items she had on when she married my father. I did not expect to see it for three more years." Richard clenched his fists. "When my father told me that I was to be married, I was shocked. When he told me that I was to be married to you..." He was getting angry at himself for taking away her inoncence.

"Will you take another woman after me?" She said through tears. "Will you keep mistresses and whores in your bed?"

"No!" He said, angrily.

"Are you speaking truthfully? We might be French but we are no strangers to gossip. We know of you and your temper, my Lord." Michonne said.

Richard's usual clear blue eyes turned dark. Michonne noticed the change in his demeanour but did not back down. He stalked towards her until they were but mere inches apart. "I do not lie, you will see."

Her stomach plunged, "In due time, I suppose." She fell to the ground and wept openly. He did not know what to do, but assumed her emotive state was due to her travels.

"Go... You must be tired from your travels." He said, not looking at her.

"No."

He stopped adjusting the papers on his desk. "No?"

"No."

"You will not speak to me as if I am beneath you." He watched her. "You will not!"

For what seemed like the hundredth time in the days she was in Ireland, Richard and Michonne looked at one another. Neither one could look away for it meant backing down. "You will do as I say as King of these lands." He said.

"If you do not wish to live a life of misfortune, you will not order me around. I am not a child, I am your future wife, the Queen of England." She stood up albeit shakily and fixed her skirts before approaching him. "You are not the only one with a temper, Wild King. I will not tolerate disrespect." She wiped the tears from her eyes before unlocking the door. "Goodnight, my Lord."

Richard stared at his bedchamber door confused and aroused at what just transpired.

. . .

"Your Highness!" Sir Michel yelled. Michonne fought the urge to roll her eyes and plastered on a neutral face.

"Sir Michel." She greeted.

"I was looking for you."

She sighed out loud and Margaret stiffled a giggle. "What for?"

"I need to speak to you, it is most urgent." He begged.

"At this time of night? Surely it can wait." She did not want to be around anymore, she wanted to go to bed and not think of the wedding or of her future.

"Yes."

"Very well." She agreed to be lead to the mundane courtyard in the middle of the night. 'Margaret, prepare my bath water please."

"Of course, your Highness." She curtsied and continued her walk to the bedroom as Michonne led the way to the courtyard.

"What is it that you want to discuss, Michel?" She demanded.

"I wanted to know if you were really going to go through with it."

"Go through with what?" She glared.

"With marrying Lord Richard." She confessed. "You cannot go through with it."

"And why not? Was it not you who asked my father to accompany me to my husband? You must have done some convincing, I'm sure."

"He does not even love you nor does he deserve you." His brown eyes bore into hers. Unfortunately for him, Michonne no longer found herself drowning in them.

"And you do?" She crossed her arms in his silence. She paced around the small courtyard, it was nice enough, but it would be nicer once she got it cleaned up. "I have decided to marry him."

"You were arguing with him not too long ago."

"You followed me?" She raised an eyebrow.

"I wanted to make sure that you were safe."

"From who?"

"From him."

"Why?"

Michel sighed. "Because he is mad."

Michonne said nothing. She had grown tired of hearing Richard being called mad. If anything, she was the one going mad. He would not let her eat, sleep, or wake up alone even if she ordered him to. "Mad you say?"

"He has a temper."

"As do I."

"I have never seen you angry towards anybody."

"I am angry." She said as she snapped off a small dead branch from one of the aging trees. "I am angry at my father for forcing me to marry I do not know and I am angry at Richard for planting this seed in my father's head." She twirled the small branch in her hand. "I have no voice, I have no choice, but those that are made for me and I am tired of it. Don't you think that would make one angry?"

Michel bit his lip. He did not want to agree because she already knew it was true.

"I grew up as a princess, but I am not a princess by birth. I have to do what is told of me because I am grateful for everything the King has done for me. However, I will not tolerate insolence from any." She paused. "And now, Richard knows as much."

"Yes, Princess."

"What is your reasoning for bringing me out here?"

"I- I wanted-"

"To confess your feelings for my wife?" A voice said. Both heads turned to the figure standing in the far corner of the courtyard. Michonne felt her face flush; she was embarrassed that she had been caught with a man other than her husband or father. He was sure to send her back home to her father.

"My Lord." She curtsied when he made himself visible.

"My Lord." Michel bowed.

Richard waved his hand in dismissal, he was not going to be fooled in his own home. He leisurely walked towards his wife and her guard, noticing that the air between the two was tense. He smiled.

"I thought you would be in bed by now." He said, looking directly at Michonne.

"I was, my Lord."

"Please call me Richard, he said in a soft tone." Michonne flushed, she had never heard a man speak so softly to her before. She smiled a small small. "And you... Sir Michel correct?"

"Yes, your Highness."

"Why have you brought my betrothed to this... place?" He waved his hand around. "It is after dark and there is no one here to protect her."

"I am protecting her." He said sternly.

"Oh?" Richard said, both eyes raised. "Protecting her from who, exactly?"

"From you."

Richard laughed before approaching the taller man. Sir Michel was as strong as he appeared but Richard was cunning and at times, violent. He looked at Michonne who looked at Michel in horror and embarrassment. He did not know what her reaction meant, but decided to deal with it later. "From me?"

"Yes, sire."

"Because I am mad, yes? I am the Wild King, the King who will cause harm to anyone and anything who trespasses me?" Neither princess nor guard responded. "Michonne."

"Yes, my-Richard." She fumbled.

Richard smiled at the fact. He turned to her and before she could step back, held her face with both his hands. Michonne stared at him confused, but not scared. "You will take your bath in your rooms, but shall retire to mine. Do you understand?" She nodded quickly. "Good. Now, leave us."

Michonne picked up her skirts and ran out of the courtyard, leaving the two men vying for her affection alone.