April shifted the scarf on her head once more to ensure that it was secured on top of her silky hair. She held in the other hand a large sack of clean, folded laundry for one of the boys' rooms. Inside little shirts and petite trousers rocked back and forth with a cleanliness that only a mother could make; after all, April was the best thing any of them had ever experienced as a maternal figure. The children burst about the orphanage house in this late morning doing crafts, imaginary sword fights, and on occasion even helping tidy up. She had taken this advantage to do the routine laundry washing and hanging. April had just plucked these tiny suits and folded them up to be put into hand carved chests. She was humming a song to herself, one that even she did not recognize, as she tugged open a drawer in the young boys' quarters. Her right hand went for James' trousers and set them inside just before noticing something; what was that? She removed the bottoms and jutted her chin in to peer at what could have been a fanciful young girl's imagination. She nearly leapt back at seeing bits of fabric moving. Upon closer inspection she rolled her eyes – fleas. They catapulted themselves and twitched abruptly into hiding like tiny brown gymnasts, burrowing into the children's clothes and hoping to remain undiscovered until an animal with compatible blood came nearby. This was not the first time she had seen fleas in a clothing drawer, in fact it was quite common, but it did mean she would have to get them clean outfits that were untainted.
April grabbed the clothing by wads and threw them outside of one of the bedroom windows into the side yard. The clothes would have to be burned to get rid of each of the pests, leaving half naked children. She knew that she, and probably a few others, would have to take a trip into town today to get new clothing. Or perhaps just some fabric she could put together; whatever would be cheaper. It was not planned nor was it too big of a hassle for a lazy Saturday. Nettlestone had nothing but cheap clothes that practically melted off after three months, so Nottingham was the best bet for the Kirkslee's Orphanage. April's heart kind of chirped at the idea – Guy worked in Nottingham. Wouldn't it be so wonderful to see him again? Oh, what was she thinking, he is a very preoccupied and important man, she is not a priority. But perhaps with some luck and a few questions their paths could cross. He was so gentle and so understanding and he loved to teach her all sorts of things. The man was blatantly brilliant, this was clear. His gorgeous smile could liquefy her skin and flare up her chest without a straw of effort. April could not hesitate to be in his presence again, so she rounded up a few children and prepared a carriage for them to the capital town.
Things within the castle, though, were drastically less sing-songy. Sherriff Vesey was chewing his knuckles thin as he lollygagged down in the pits of his prison; oh how he loved some good bloodshed in the morning. His night had been void of any sleep, so he could not wait to perk his attitude with some suppression of lesser beings. First he had harassed a man who thought it funny to evade taxes. The poor soul was, of course, tagged with handcuffs and some burn marks from a searing skewer. The next victim had been seen brawling in an alley near a pub before throwing punches at the skulls of officials. His punishment included a ridiculous set of headgear that would create buzzing and jeers at each corner before they noticed the gashes on his body. In the back of the chamber lie the largest cell of all. The iron grate walls stood between the walkway and a double spaced area with chains and locks, their purpose to hold a man hanging up for a scourging. Vesey went to licking his teeth before getting to this point. His mouth fell flat with disappointment when he approached, however. The middle aged man who had accepted money from Hood was suspended and looked rather dehydrated, but that was the majority of it.
"Open it," he screamed, "I said open it!" A silver plated guard obliged and dragged over the jailer, who was fiddling with the ring of keys before swinging open the cubicle. Vesey shoved his way through the mass of the two men and stormed inside to see the delirious captive in his element. The man craved food and drink but did not dare speak of these desires, for he was fully aware that he had gotten off the hook quite simply. The Sherriff grabbed his face with a claw and hurriedly scanned over the visage; nothing. He thrust away the skull in his grasp and patted down his chest; nothing. His arms, too, were bare of any sores, mars, burns, or any strips of red from a whipping. Vesey could only find threads of tender pink flesh on his back that resembled a weak attempt at scourging. There were toddlers that could lash better, he spat inside his mind. "What the hell is this? What happened here?" Vesey pounded into the guest with an open palm and shrieked at the jailer, who merely shook his head.
"Gisborne was here last night," the jailer replied with swiftness, "that's all I know, sire."
"Gisborne." The Sherriff growled with boiling disdain. He would make his insubordinate pay for this mistake. He was aware that Guy had been distracted in the past 48 hours, much more so than usual. It was as if the man couldn't bark, eat, or sleep anymore. Vesey was convinced that it had to pertain to that little tart from before. That dumb little girl he found so pretty in the orphanage. A leper. All women were stupid lepers, couldn't he see that? This weakness would prove to be his downfall, and Vesey was not afraid to encourage it.
"Mmm, no, I really don't think so," April told one of the little girls, Annie, "I much prefer this other dress for you." She held up a small gown of lilac that the seven year old rolled her eyes at. Reluctantly she replaced the olive dress and examined this other suggestion.
"Miss April, could I get this red one?" James begged as he shoved a short sleeved shirt into her view, nearly hitting her in the chest with his fist.
"Of course, of course." She giggled at his enthusiasm. The shopkeeper was avoiding all the energy and ruckus with some eye rolls and a wooden stool that rested in the corner, perching her above the shortest of the children. The youthful leader took another clothing item from a stand before the front door was violently forced open with a vindictive kick. Reflexes drew every eye to the are as five armor clad castle workers barged into the shop, pushing little Annie into the wall to get her out of the way. James and his friend Alan circumvented the authority figures and picked up the child as April rushed over.
"You, you're coming with us." The captain of the group told her as he placed a gloved hand on her forearm. The brunette took another step towards her youngsters and furrowed her brows.
"What are you doing, she's a child!"
"You're coming to the castle." He demanded, patience clearly evaporating from his voice. One of his colleagues clamped onto her upper arm and tugged with violence to escort her out, popping the shoulder joint a little.
"For what, I have done nothing." she pleaded.
"Shuddup!" one of them commanded with a shove to her spine as April was dragged out the door. The three youth watched horrified and frozen in fear of Vesey's men, their hearts pounding, and the blood to their muscles gone.
"Don't worry," she called back to them, doing her best to traverse and look into the shop, "Guy will fix this. Stay there. It will all be okay!"
"Yeah, good luck with that." The chief of the guard sneered.