Chapter 11

Her head was pounding. Hard.

Very hard.

It felt like her head was being split apart by the strong blow of a heavy axe or her skull was being drilled from the outside in. It was certainly a very pleasant awakening.

Mary's eyes fluttered open and upon doing so, she squinted as the sunlight hit her newly awakened eyes. Heaving herself out of her bed, Mary staggered groggily towards her washstand; taking a pause on one of her poster stands. She took hold of the porcelain bell and in her sleepy state, began to shake it half-heartedly. The rings of the bell echoed emptily throughout her chamber. Moments passed as she began to slumber in her wait for an attendant to assist her in her dressing, but no one seemed to come. It had taken her another few moments to realise that she had, at present, no attendant. She began to mutter to herself, "I must visit Lizzie to ask for a new attendant; goodness knows I need one."

She poured herself a bowl of water to wash her face with and as she dipped her fingers in, it shocked her, the stinging coldness biting into her warm fingers.

In her dressing, it had taken her double the time to prepare than if she had Joan to help her (a sadness began to manifest in her mind at the thought of the fate of her former lady's maid) and by the end of her preparation, she felt more than ready to succumb once more to the clutches of Morpheus. She was already fully garbed in a day wear of the deepest cobalt blue and her hair fixed to a reasonable standard (she only really could do plaits to keep it from her face, and so the rest of her untamable curls came tumbling in waves of gold). She was beginning to get a cloak for herself and could not decide on what cloak she would've liked to use that particular day.

A heavy, foreign knock came upon her chamber door. Foreign in the sense that she was unfamiliar with the rhythmic beat of the knock. Richard always had two sets of four taps whilst Anthony walked in without an introduction.

"My Lady, I bear a package sent by His Grace, the Duke of Gloucester." A messenger announced through the thick, oaken wood. Mary felt her intrigue rise at what could have been sent to her and approached the entrance in quick succession in her curiousity.

With a great pull, she heaved the door open. "Good morrow, my lady!" The messenger greeted with a hearty smile. For a moment, Mary studied the messenger before her. The boy was tall, but not overly so with chestnut locks tucked under a cap mandatory for his job. His livery was clean, with some creases in some parts. His youthful visage seemed to indicate to her that he was older, just about Richard's age, and certainly livened up her morning, as he had an infectious, toothy smile that coaxed one out of her as well. Involuntarily, her cheeks began to lift themselves up against her will, forming a reciprocated smile. When she had done so, the boy's eyes widened a little and his earlier pale cheeks began to flush at the sight before him.

"Good morrow to you as well. What is it you have brought for me?" Mary asked almost laughingly at the increasingly reddening of the boy's cheeks and had begun to lean against the door.

He began to stutter. "M-my L-lady-" He spluttered incoherently and began to cough in a violent manner, dropping the package he had been carrying.

Her eyebrows creased together in concern at his sudden outburst and rushed forward to catch the messenger as he began to quiver in his fit all thoughts of the package forgotten with the boy's unexpected plight. Mary opened the door wider in panic and ushered the boy in whilst scanning the corridor for any witnesses. It was fortunate then that he stopped coughing as soon as she laid a hand on his shoulder because then the mere glimpse of a man in Mary's room and unchaperoned could have compromised her reputation. As he heaved in breaths, Mary walked away and poured him a glass of wine for him to drink; he took it down in quick, short gulps.

"Are you in better humours now?" Mary asked teasingly, as he wiped his mouth of any wine that might have dropped.

The boy had taken an unnecessary gulp before answering her. "Yes, My Lady. My gratitude for your quick thinking." He bowed. Mary gave a little giggle as she made her way over to the fallen package.

"And what is your name, good sir?" Mary asked, calling back to him as she was kneeling down. She let the package sit on her lap as she unravelled its ribbon, revealing a cloak in a colour that was reminiscent of the rich Burgundian wine that she was so fond of.

"They call me James, my lady." It made Mary smile a little (as did his name) at the garment as she lifted the cloak to inspect it more thoroughly. Mary let a silent gasp escape in her amazement. Its collar and arm openings were lined with supple ermine fur. She ran her fingers through the lining, feeling the warmth and softness that it was so famous for and immediately understood why its price was exorbitant in nature. Mary smirked to herself quietly as she thought to herself the hit that it had taken upon poor Richard's fortune. In lifting it up further, a small piece of parchment fell unto the floor beside her.

The messenger must have noticed as he had given a small cough. "My lord bids me to escort you to him." He said. As he did so, she noticed the fallen parchment beside her. Mary opened it and read the note inscribed upon it:

Mary,

I await you in the archery range; perhaps

The new cloak has met your undoubtedly high standards and will

Finally give you the confidence to attempt

To outshoot me,

Your beloved Richard.

His last line made Mary smirk dangerously (and blush a little), his pride (it seemed) inflated larger as he realised (when, she could not say) that this colour pleased her greatly. She stood up and clutched the cloak in her hands, proceeding to fluidly drape it across her shoulders and putting her hands through the allocated arm holes. Putting on her woolen gloves, Mary straightened herself. "Lead the way then." Mary said, gesturing for James to lead her to Richard, who was (she realised) left waiting for quite some time.

"-we've lived near this castle for generations. I really can't imagine my life not being here milady." James chattered on. Mary was becoming consistently amused at her companion as he seemed to have an endless list of topics that he could talk about. The shrubbery of the archery range was fast approaching and Mary could see Richard patiently waiting at the mouth of the entrance, which was marked by an arch of bushes, bestrewn with white roses and twining with each other. He was dressed in dark clothing (it seems that he has taken a particular liking to royal blue garments), sheltered fashionably by a sombre black cloak. Despite the dreary nature of his choice of wardrobe, it hadn't stopped Mary from seeing a grin bloom upon his pale features.

In her excitement, Mary swept up her kirtle in one hand and rushed towards him, eager to showcase for him the lovely gift he had given to her. She barrelled straight into him and he had caught her in a whirlwind of an embrace, her cloak billowing round them like the Lancaster rose burgeoning its crimson petals. Their impetuous laughter at seeing each other after a few days apart caused an even greater improvement to Mary's temperament and when he let go of her, Richard let her stand once more upon her feet. Their laughter had suddenly died down, the atmosphere quickly thickening around them. Her arms were still round his neck and his upon her waist and their eyes met, immediately locking upon each other. His startling blue eyes searched her own and dropped down to look to something else lower than her eyes.

Her heart began to pound, like her head had done this morning. Only this time, the axe was being handled by her heart and it was threatening to split her chest open. Their faces seemed to inch closer to each other without their knowledge, as if instinctual. Mary's breath had been caught in her throat and she felt as if she could barely breathe, a hazy curtain settling itself in front of her eyes. Her eyes began to droop lethargically as their faces continued to move closer to each other, anticipation for something she was not familiar with was pending, ready to jump the moment whatever it was had happened.

It was a pity then when they had been interrupted by Mary's newly found friend, James, else something could have happened. "My Lady!" He had called to them, instilling the pair with a sudden awareness of their surroundings, leading Richard and Mary to separate immediately, disappointment clear on their features. "My Lady!- You had dropped your kerchief!" James cried out, walking briskly before coming to a sudden halt before the pair.

He handed her her dropped kerchief and continued to possess a sunny smile, one that Mary noticed was more directed at her than it had been directed at Richard, whose expression seemed to be crossed between that of sourness and amusement. Mary reached out daintily for her kerchief and smiled at James in gratefulness. "Grammarcy, James." Mary thanked him and directed another of her smiles at him, inciting a blush from the boy's cheeks.

Richard gave a small cough, causing both Mary and James to look up to him with innocence. James stumbled to make an excuse to leave their presence. "My Lady, I must excuse my… myself to continue my duties. My Lord." James performed a clumsy bow and slowly stumbled away, ambling reluctantly back towards the main castle.

In companionable silence, Mary and Richard watched James walk away from them, Mary watching on in amusement and Richard with indecipherable emotions flickering across his face. "Well, Mary," Richard pronounced in a flippant manner, "It seems that you have managed to charm another one."

Mary was taken aback by that statement, she couldn't imagine that that would have been the first words out of his mouth. "What do you mean 'another one'?" Mary asked, tone bordering on indignant. Smirking slightly, Richard turned to give her a knowing look. She was shocked, to say the least, that he had thought that she had managed to charm the messenger that he had sent. In her mind, she thought that James and her managed to be on friendly terms, as much as one could be with the gap between their social statuses. All the same, Mary decided to play. "Are you jealous, Richard? That someone else has managed to win my friendship and in a lesser amount of time than you?" Mary poked, almost smirking at the look of an internally squirming Richard.

He muttered to himself, an incoherent sentence and series of breaths that to Mary was unrecognisable. She strained her ears to hear him speak the words. "Richard, don't mumble!" She chastised in playful frustration, her lips threatening to erupt in uncontrollable laughter. "Say it again."

He shook his head vigorously, beginnings of a pink colour making itself known to her. "It is nothing." Richard muttered, his eyes training the disappearing form of James. Mary felt a smile creeping up her lips as Richard's colour deepened in shade, but chose instead not to act upon the impulse of further teasing her closest friend.

"So, my dearest friend," Mary started, feeling quite cheeky. "What has prompted you to gift to me a very sumptuous cloak?" As she asked the question, she spun and swished its extensive length about in a show of her delight at it. "I do not think I am so very deserving of this cloak and I must pity your fortune for the very hard blow it has sustained to finance such a garment."

Without a word, Richard turned and walked back into the archery range in slow, measured paces. Mary felt confused at such a sudden movement and its slow execution. Indeed, she almost wondered whether she had offended him in some way in referring to his fortune (which was abundant in amount, she was assured, for so young a Duke and that had not yet included the yield of his lands). "Richard!" She called to him, but he didn't stop moving away from her and his form was starting to be covered by the greenery of the archery range. When he continued to move away from her, Mary swiftly picked up the layers of her kirtle as well as the hem of her cloak (not wanting to ruin it on its first outing) and ran after him. "Richard!- Where are you going?" Mary called out in confusion. The green hedges obscured her view of Richard, as he was long gone and down another path. She scanned her meagre surroundings, not recognising this particular path. Almost reluctant to continue down this questionable path, Mary sighed to herself and drudged on, the grass crisp and damp beneath her feet from the morning dew.

"Richard!" Mary called out, not for the first time. She was getting a little queasy at the constant green colour surrounding her. "Come back!- What are you doing?"

Her question was ended with a gasp of pleasant surprise. A smile grew upon her features, the queasiness dissipating in the face of this unexpected arrangement. Her hands flew to cover the growing surprise.

Before her was the archery range; but next to it was a spread of lavish foods to break fast with. Freshly baked bread still emitting heat and bowls overflowing with motley fruits of various sizes. In two tall bottles, Mary recognised her favourite Burgundian wine looking at her expectantly, as if they had been waiting for her to take a good long sip at it. She licked her lips in her thirst for it.

Richard stood next to the spread, which had been laid neatly on an oak table under the shade of a tree, his arms opened wide to showcase what he had prepared for her. "Richard, what was all this for?" Mary whispered breathlessly, her eyes wide at the simple gesture. "I feel as if you are coddling me now; what is the occasion that is so desperately needed?"

He lowered his arms to be behind his back and began to innocently walk towards Mary, schooling his features to not give away his utter pleasure at Mary's positive reaction to his arrangement. "My dear Mary," He started, "It has recently occurred to me that to-day is a momentous day for someone. Someone has grown to be four and ten years."

In a dramatic fashion, Mary's viridescent eyes grew wider; her long, dark lashes brushing against her flushing pallor. Richard laughed at the comical sight before him of an awestruck Mary. "I've not known a quiet Mary," Richard proclaimed, a smirk playing upon his features. "What says she?" The rhetorical question was asked and answered immediately. She tackled him into a tight hug, taking him by surprise as her braids were beginning to become disheveled at the sheer force that she had tackled him with.

"I did not think you would be so thoughtful of me, Richard!" She cried in utter contentment. Pulling back, she smiled so widely she felt as if her face was threatening to split itself apart. "How did you come to know of it?" she questioned teasingly.

Richard opened his mouth to answer but no sound came out. A slight gurgle was heard, originating from Mary's stomach. She began to blush a rosy pink colour and Richard began to smirk amusedly at the sound that indicated her hunger. "Mary, as much as I would like to enlighten you on how I had come to possess that specific piece of information, you need to first attend to your needs." He said pointedly as he dragged her towards the breakfast table.

A bright squeal could be heard reverberating throughout the clear, morning air.

Mary's vision was spinning, as if she was looking through a piece of glass that was wrought with swirls and bumps. She tried aiming her arrow straight at the practice board, but she could see various circles of divers colours winding round each other in endless perfection. She could hear and feel the giggles emanating from her, a tinge of bordering madness could be heard. She felt her body swaying in her tipsy state, her grip on her bow and arrow slackening. Curls broke free from her plaits and cascaded in ringlets across her forehead. Mary felt warm hands gently grip her wrists and the bow and arrow slide from her hands.

Her brows creased in confusion and consternation, primarily due to her loss of contact with her bow. "Richard, why are you taking my bow from me?" She whined and pouted for good measure. She could hear his chuckle echo endlessly into the thick wintering air. The snow had not begun to fall yet, but the wet and frigid weather was beginning to get harsher, indicating a promise of the terrible season ahead to be endured.

With her hands empty, Mary began to sway again; her hands in search for an object to lean on as the world spun carelessly round her. Shades of green became a kaleidoscope as she felt her head spinning, finally stopped when a warm hand came to settle itself upon one of her swatting hands and another scooping the expanse of her waist so as to get a better hold of her form as Mary threatened to collapse on the damp grass. "Mary?" He whispered gently, hoping to arouse her from her drunken state.

It had become of no consequence.

"Oh!- My Lord Richard, I had not expected you to be here!" Richard turned round to find the source of the surprised voice. Behind him was an opening of the labyrinth-like garden, which had accommodated Lady Blanche's arrival. A hood covered her hair, protecting her head from the mild cold. Her eyes were unsurprised at the display of Mary and Richard, though he could make out that her lips were pursed as if she was displeased about an unknown offending object. A dark green cloak was swathed upon her shoulders, barring the view of what her attire might have consisted of. Richard felt himself inwardly groan at the unwanted turn of events, with Mary and her new cloak draped across his arms in her drunken stupor like wine spilling over fingers.

"Good morrow, my lady." He greeted plainly, though he felt himself exerting effort at holding Mary up. "How is it that I may help you in this fine morn?" He asked rhetorically, though he knew that she would answer all the same.

"You can't quite help me, I'm afraid." She said, almost despondently. Then her features quirked up, as if in sudden thought. "But it would please me greatly if you," Richard and Mary (though she was a little tipsy) swore that they could hear an emphasis upon this word, "And my Lady Mary would keep company until the luncheon banquet will commence as I have no other engagement that would keep me occupied otherwise." Said she in a regretful manner.

Richard sighed inwardly. "I am sorry to say that neither of us can keep you company for the time being as you can see that Mary-" Richard lifted her up further into his arms to hold her easier, Mary's head lolling to the side as she succumbed to a light slumber. "Is quite indisposed."

Lady Blanche was quite unperturbed by his statement. "And you, my lord?" She asked innocently. "What is to keep you detained as my Lady Mary sleeps?"

In his frustration, Richard's brows creased together and fought back the urge not to roll his eyes. "How does what I do affect you, my lady?" Richard asked curiously, genuinely confused at why the lady in question has continuously pursued him if he has made it abundantly clear that he had no interest in her. "I would not allow myself to do anything atrocious to you, if that had been your primary worry." He thus gifted her with an amused smirk, which had incited a light blush from the Lady Blanche. But he had not seen it as he looked down at Mary, who he found was fast asleep in his arms from intoxication. He felt himself smile softly at the sight of it. He gathered her up in his arms to take her back to his sitting room and excused himself from the Lady Blanche's presence in a mannerly fashion.

Stalking off towards the direction of the palace, Richard heard the lady he had previously left behind call out to him, "And will I be seeing you at supper, my lord?"

Abruptly, Richard found himself halted in the process of journeying back. He calculated his answer in his head, taking his time in doing so before turning his head and not his body before answering in a clipped tone, "If it will please Mary, then it shall happen."

Mary felt her lashes brush lazily against the canopy of her eyelids and the warmth of her cloak envelope her. A warm fire crackled sporadically just in front of her and a hard, carved wall was stopping her from rolling backwards. Slowly, she twisted her head to see what it was that stopped her from rolling over the side.

The backrest of an ornamental bench, with swirls dipping and curving to form intricate designs.

With great effort, she pushed herself up with her hands pressing against the velvet cushions that she laid upon and bushed the stray curls away from her face. She moved her arms to brush away her cloak and found the said material to be heavier than she expected it to be. Mary's gaze quickly scanned it to see what had made it so cumbersome. It was not the rich vermillion colour of her new cloak that had greeted her; instead, a rich royal blue had made itself known to her. Under its weight, Mary grunted as she pushed it off from her slight frame.

A darkly light chuckle coaxed a gasp to fall from her lips and her head to whip round and see what it was that had produced the sound.

Towards the back of the familiar, spacious chamber, Mary was met by the sight of a busy Richard. His head of Stygian curls was buried deep in paperwork as his quill scratched furiously against the delicate fibres of the offending parchment. "Richard?" She croaked. A sudden pounding had begun within the confines of her mind, causing a groan to escape her lips. "What am I doing here?"

Without a word, Richard stood up with letters gripped between his fingers and the quill gripped between his right pointer finger and thumb. Mary noted that he had shed his outer layer and had instead left on his chemise and his breeches as the heat of the room demanded it so, causing her to blush and involuntarily avert her eyes away from his frame at the informality of the situation. She had only really seen her brothers and her father in this state and no other.

"Ah!" Richard quietly exclaimed. He still had not looked up from his work. "The dead has awoken from their sleep!" He scratched a couple more words before completely abandoning his work and putting his undivided attention upon Mary. He walked round his polished, chestnut table and towards Mary with a cheery expression glittering his eyes.

"You have been slumbering for too long, dearest." He remarked amusedly before sitting himself on the cushion that Mary had earlier rested her head upon in her sleep.

With the convenience that Richard was there, Mary laid her sluggish head upon his shoulders and took in a deep breath to awake her senses. She could smell the sweet smell of ashed wood and Richard's woodsy scent. As she had done so, she felt his arm drape itself across her shoulders; on instinct, she cuddled closer to him and turned to open her arms and embrace him. His voice aroused her senses a little as he uttered, "Dear Mary, would you like to go riding on the morrow?" He asked the request gently, so as not to startle her in her drowsy state. "I have acquired for you a new mare which I think you will grow to love very much. We can take her out tomorrow and see if you both take a liking to each other, though I do have very good taste."

She felt surprise amidst the sea of which Morpheus continued to submerge her in. "But you have already given me such a costly gift and you have gotten me a horse as well?" Her croak of a voice was disbelieving, to say the least. "I have half a mind to refuse such a gift."

Richard smirked. "And you have half a mind to accept it." He retorted quietly.

She could not argue, not when more than half of her was asleep. Thus, her only response had been a quiet hum that told Richard she was accepting it. With that, a comfortable quietness had ensued throughout the room.

"Mary?" He whispered almost deliriously with drowsiness, the warmth and dimness of the room influencing his current state.

She hummed in response.

"We have to move to the banquet hall for the dinner my dear brother has organised." Mary could hear the roll of his eyes at the thought of having to go to it. "We will both be sorely missed if we are not in attendance."

She groaned lightly at the thought of having to move with the pounding in her head enduring past this conversation. With concern, Richard cocked his head slightly in her direction, his brows arched quizzically. "I would loathe to be in attendance; I'd miss it just to vex Lizzie." Mary said, a vindictive smile forming.

Richard's head snapped to hers in surprise. "You know very well that you can't do that," He said knowingly. "You must know that your sister will most likely send a servant to fetch you and you wouldn't want the poor boy to freeze out in the open?" He looked at her pointedly. "You would not be so cruel as to let him sit out and starve, would you, dear Mary?" He challenged.

"I would not!" Mary said indignantly, then screwed her eyes shut in frustrated realisation. "Then, my pity for him would force me to go to whatever social call she would have me go and attend to. What a dreadful cycle!" She remarked on her sudden epiphany with self-pity.

"Yes, so it is." Richard affirmed before suddenly standing up to attention. At that sudden action, Mary gave a curious glance at him but then heard what it was that alerted him so: a loud bell tolling, signifying the lateness of the hour. She glanced at Richard putting on his obligatory clothing fit for a Duke and glanced at her own attire. A little crumpled, but the cloak that Richard earlier gifted her would hide whatever mishap her clothing had to offer.

With great effort, Mary removed her legs from under her and made to stand up, but upon doing so, instantly swayed. In her light-headed state, she leaned against the armrests of the chaise she had minutes ago called a bed and concentrated on keeping upright as her numb legs threatened to let her fall upon the cedar wood floor. "Are you ready to adjourn to the Banquet Hall?" Richard's voice softly asked.

She could only nod softly as she took his proffered arm and walked towards the Hall, all the while feeling a terrible foreboding feeling.

"Ah, Mary!"

That deep voice of her mother over the jovial music and loud chatters of the courtiers had startled Mary as she entered the banquet hall with Richard escorting her. Both their heads turned to the sound of Lady Rivers' voice, with Richard's hand putting a little more pressure on the small of her back as he escorted Mary to her mother. Lady Rivers, despite the ecstatic mood of the banquet, had an expression of utter seriousness. Her lips were set in a puckered line and her eyes were sharp and focused. Her clothing was somber, a shadowy shade of blue swathed her tall figure. Forever mourning her dead husband and son, Mary thought to herself then found herself saddening at the thought, knowing that they were her father and brother. Clutched within her long fingers was a goblet of wine that looked barely drunk.

"Good day, lady mother." Mary greeted as she curtsied and Richard bowed in kind. Lady Rivers nodded slightly in acknowledgement to both of them and then turned her attentions back to Mary.

"It has been quite a while, Mary, since we have held a single conversation. One would think that you have been avoiding me all that time." Lady Rivers said pointedly before delicately sipping on her wine.

Mary cleared her throat before responding to her mother's shielded poke. "It has not been of my choosing, lady mother. I have quite busy as of late, as I am well aware you know."

In quick succession, Lady Rivers' eyes flew up to gaze upon a bored Richard, who looked round the displays of the hall discreetly to gain a modicum of entertainment. "Yes, quite sure that you are exceedingly engaged." Mary's eyes followed the line of her mother's sight, not quite understanding her meaning. When she had been met by the sight of her dear friend, it became clear what Lady Rivers' meaning was and it had not been polite in its intention.

"My lady mother, I believe we have now been able to hold a single conversation. Enjoy the banquet." Mary pronounced in a steely voice before she nudged Richard and moved towards the growing crowd of dancers.

She kept her hand at the crook of his elbow until they both reached an open space, where Mary asked him to dance with her. "Dance with me." She ordered him, her hair whipping round in her state of aggravation, almost causing Richard to be a victim of her anger.

Richard's lips quirked into that of a smile and in an exaggerated fashion, he swept into a deep bow. "My Lady, it would be my utmost pleasure to dance with you." He proclaimed in the most ridiculous fashion possible and offered his hand, causing a slight upturn on Mary's lips but she pushed it downwards as she roughly accepted his hand. He led her through the crowd and began to follow the steps of the courtiers already engaged in the current dance. "My dear Mary, will you not try to enjoy this set? Put more enthusiasm into it!" Richard said in good humour as he turned round to meet Mary with their hands slightly touching.

At Richard's blissful disposition, Mary rolled her eyes as she could not fully remove the feeling of indignation at her mother's suspicion of Richard and her's friendship. "I will try when my mother will not make such lewd accusations of you and I."

Both Richard and Mary turned their backs to each other in order to face their new partners. In this movement, Mary did not see the slight blush and smirk upon Richard's features. "And what is it that she is accusing us of doing?" He asked, curiously amused at what her Lady Mother had deduced of them.

"I think that she looks upon this friendship as unnatural; if I am not mistaken, she either suspects us of having carnal knowledge of each other or that you are a Sodomite, seeing as you are not courting any lady as of late or shown the slightest interest in one." Mary revealed to him in an outburst.

"Does not my showering you in attention prove my not being a Sodomite?" Richard teased lightly as they met back in the middle.

Mary scoffed. "So, you admit to showing an interest to me?" Mary asked disbelieving at his intent.

Richard could do nothing but stay quiet and force down the glowing heat of his cheeks. "Oh dear goodness! I was just teasing." Mary proclaimed, sensing his growing discomfort. "Richard, I will not question you nor your thoughts or feelings. I did not mean to pry."

He was quick to reply, once he realised Mary's thoughts. "No, no Mary! Please do not apologise." He assured her. "I do not wish to get married so quickly; I wish to take my time so as to understand my own self and my duties."

In response, Mary gave a hum of understanding and gave Richard a look of utter boredom, praying intently that this torture might be over already.

It had been great timing indeed that the dance had ended right then or Mary might've had to keep up the pretense of enjoying the set. When they had applauded the musicians for their music, the herald had declared that dinner was to be served. With that knowledge, Richard escorted Mary off of the dance floor and to an open seat.

"Mary!"

Both Mary and Richard's heads turned to the source of the sound from across the hall, where they had identified it as the towering presence that was Anthony. "Are we to dine with him, Mary?" Richard whispered his reluctance to do so discreetly as they walked over to Anthony's table.

Mary gave him a slight shove, an indication to Richard that they would.

With high spirits, Mary came running to Anthony with skirts flying behind her and her arms wide open. "Anthony!" Mary squealed, her rapturous cry disguised by the loud chatters of the courtiers. She jumped onto him and wrapped her arms round his neck tightly as he spun her around in joy. Their giggles were certainly sounds to affirm their love and happiness at seeing each other. "Anthony, it is absolutely marvellous to see you. I thought that you were to be back tomorrow from Italy?" She asked, a tinge of confusion marring her nevertheless joyous features.

"Yes, I was." Anthony affirmed as Richard approached the happy siblings. "But I was so eager to see you again, my dear, that I forced everyone to dredge on forwards." He proclaimed as he swooped her again into an embrace, earning high pitched chuckles.

Behind Mary, Richard approached unhurriedly. As Mary heard Richard's approaching steps with its slow gait, it quickly became clear to Mary in that moment that Richard was not eager to re-acquaint himself with her most beloved brother. Anthony caught sight of a reluctant Richard and waved him over. "I must say, Your Grace, I heartily thank you for taking good care of Mary in my absence." Anthony thanked him with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. "I could not think of anyone better who I could have trusted to watch over my dearest sister."

Richard bowed in thanks for such a compliment. "There would have been no need to ask, if you even had." He demurred. "I do not think of Mary as a chore, as others might do."

To anyone else's eyes, Richard's gaze would have looked bored, even uninterested at the topic at hand but to Mary's eyes, Richard was analysing her enigma of a brother as well as his words. Mary sensed there was a growing tension between them, one that she had never noticed before but began to realise had always been there, however mild it had been in its intensity. "Let us proceed to a seat, shall we?- Anthony?- Richard?" Mary asked politely, but there was a steely tone of resolve running beneath her words.

Hums of approval at the suggestion were sounded as the trio made their way to a vacant place. As they did so, Anthony and Mary began to make conversation to make up for their lost time together due to his journey. Richard trailed behind, almost regally sulking in solitude until a familiar voice had broken his thoughts.

"Your Grace."

Richard's head snapped up to see who it had been who was calling his attention. The unwanted presence of the Lady Blanche is now to be the one to torture him in his time of desired solitude. God is not smiling upon me today, Richard thought wryly, I must not have prayed enough and thus he is punishing me. His bored gaze was now lavished upon the illustrious lady who Richard has realised has constantly been pining for his attention. An insincere smile placed itself on his features before asking the lady in question: "My Lady, is there anything I can do for you?"

It seems that the lady could not decipher what an insincere smile had looked like because she went ahead with her question, or rather, request. "My Lord Richard, I have come to ask, since neither you or the Lady Mary have come to relieve my boredom before this luncheon, if the both of you would like to come and spend the banquet with me. I much desire yo- both your companies." Lady Blanche finished with a charming smile.

Richard sighed inwardly in irritation. "You really know no bounds, do you my lady?" He asked rhetorically, but knowing once again that she would infuriate him by answering a question that he did not want answering.

"Of course," She affirmed both his rhetorical question and his foreknowledge. "My father had always taught me to strive for what my heart greatly desires, if no is not what it desires."

"As much as I admire your father greatly, my lady, I must ask: what of your mind?" Richard asked curiously and looked upon her almost pitifully.

"My mind is the reason why I will get them, hence if my heart desires to win a war, my mind will concoct the plans needed to be able to achieve its much desired goal." She answered.

With that answer, Richard looked at her with a new light. She is of a bright mind, almost as stimulating a companion as his dearest Mary (though of course in his mind, no one could come close in replacing her) and a ruthless ambition to get what her heart (as she says) so greatly desires.

Without a word, Richard offered his arm to her and escorted her to where Mary and Anthony were situated and so heavily engrossed in their conversation and their secret chuckles with a newfound respect. It was almost as if she was beginning to tag herself as being amiable in his mind and could certainly pose a threat upon his sensibilities.

A/N: I think Mary is getting some competition! I wonder how long will it take her to realise it...

I am really sorry for the long time it took to post this chapter. There was absolutely no internet and I was constantly moving around, so this chapter was practically the product of sitting down for three hours. As well as that, the Superman fanfictions are SO addicting that I can't even... I was even sucked into the Hobbit fandom and the Chronicles of Narnia for a bit that it took so long to work up the energy to abandon them long enough to write this.

Anyway, I hope that you guys enjoyed that but if you have some constructive feedback, please let me know.

Also, I've been giving it some serious thought and so, I am now officially looking for a beta for this fic. It gives me the creeps to have to read over my work and find that there are grammatical errors. So if you're interested in beta'ing my work, send me a pm! :)

Cheers, Nemo xoxo