Summary: Anne cares for Anwyll but realises she needs help

No one saw Anne for the next few days. She had taken the boy to her room and had not left since, screaming at anyone who entered uninvited. Neither Guy, Vaisey or Prince John dared enter her rooms. Stressed women are not the friendliness.

Guy still had no idea why she was so attached to the boy. He had tried asking servants, even bribing them but all stayed silent. All he could was remember her words to John. "I thought I already was," What did she mean? How could she have known Prince John before? What did he know that frightened her?

He caught glimpses of her at her window. She seemed paler every day, more scared, more worried. He saw her holding the child once. He hadn't seen its wounds but he knew it had been bleeding heavily.

That evening he was determined to see her. He didn't care how loud she screeched at him. He needed to see her. More importantly he wanted to see her.

He waited until everyone had retired before sneaking out. He stood outside her rooms before he knocked. Best try to put off the screams.

She opened the door quickly. She looked shattered. Her hair was wild while her face was gaunt and weary.

She let him in before locking the door again.

"I was wondering how you are,"

"He won't say anything,"

"Not even ..."

"He's lost too much blood. It's miracle he can still speak,"

She didn't look at him. She rushed around the room, clearing plates and stoking the fire. She was almost possessed, as if her life existed around the child's life.

"May I look at him?"

She nodded.

She wasn't lying. It was miracle the child was alive. It breathed heavily as it slept, wrapped in bandages and smelling of almost every herb he could think of.

"Can I do anything?"

"No,"

"Let me care for him. He'll be in better care,"

"What, dead?"

"I would never ..."

"No but didn't stop Prince John when he suggested it?"

"I couldn't ..."

"Why not? Why do you have to do everything he says? What makes him so above you? He is not King. He's just poor idiot full of his own ..."

"My own what?"

****************************************

How the hell did he get in?

"Full of what?"

"I didn't mean ..."

"Oh I think you did." He glimpsed at Guy by the bed, "Leave us,"

He did. Leaving her alone. With him.

"Does he know?"

"No,"

"Good. As far as they are concerned you are nothing. Nothing. Just some rich bitch they can ride as soon as you're of age. You are nothing more than a horse, admitedly prettier. You will tell them nothing. They will know nothing."

He moved in on her.

"Besides they woludn't want ... damaged goods, would they?"

"No sire,"

"Good. If the child isn't walking by tomorrow, I'll have his head, and then, I'll have you,"

One look at the child and then he left.

He didn't have to do that. He didn't need to.

She couldn't let him get his way.

She had no choice.

She began rummaging in her trunk 'til she found a small horn. She leant over her window and blew.

God speed.