Chapter 23

Everytime I took a step forward or slightly moved my arms I could feel the rope rub against my wrists. I would always regret it as a searing pain began to shoot up my arms but as time went on my wrists started to feel numb from the rope. I didn't know if the man who had taken me took Henry too, or if he had left him there to die. What if he was bleeding out and no one knew where he was? The only one who saw us leave, or I think the only one, was Francis. I wish Francis was here, he would know exactly what to do. At the same time, I was glad he wasn't so no harm could come to him. I pushed the thoughts of Francis and Henry out of my mind. I shouldn't be worrying about them at a time like this. I had to worry about myself now and how I was going to figure my way out of this situation. I was the only one I could depend on now.

I had been dragged by the ropes for quite some time now. The sun must have come up because every now and then I could feel its warmth on my arms. It was welcomed at a time like this. I attempted to remember where we were walking by noticing the small bumps, mud puddles, or rocks that I had stepped on. But these weren't useful things to find my way back and if they were then it would be difficult to figure out my way back with them. Every so often I would hear a sound like something was being dragged but I couldn't figure out what it was.

I was terrified but at the same time, I wasn't. I didn't know who or what to be afraid of. Even if I didn't know I could feel my heart thump harshly against my chest at every step I took. I was roughly pulled forward by the rope that was wrapped around my wrists. I could no longer feel the heat of the sun on my skin or feel a cold breeze rub against my arms. We must have walked inside of something. It felt colder in this new place. A lot more humid than it was outside. I felt the rope that was pulling me loosen, but the other ropes around my wrists were still tightly bonded. Slim hands were placed on my shoulders that forced me down into some sort of chair. My arms were tied again along with my ankles. This time they were tied to the chair I sat in. My breath got heavier as I heard footsteps echo throughout the unknown place. I couldn't tell if those footsteps were from one person or two. Was there more than one person in on this? What did they want with me? I heard a loud thump then a grunt followed. The voice sounded familiar and I began to wonder if they took Henry with us? Is that what they were dragging with us? I wanted to say something or talk to them to see if I could figure out this whole situation, but my body refused. It didn't want me to do anything that could lead to danger. Without warning, the bag was lifted off of my head. My eyes were working fast to adjust on the dim light that surrounded the room. There were torches in the room that hung on the walls. They didn't supply enough light to light the entire room. When my eyes finally focused they wandered all around the room, searching the room I now found myself in. It was a dark, stone room. There were no windows and only one door that was tucked away in the corner of the room. There was also a wooden table on the side that consisted of a few things that I couldn't clearly make out. Then my eyes settled on a figure that was a few feet in front of me. From what I could see he was an average sized man, but his clothes gave the allusion that he was bigger since they were so baggy on him. He wasn't facing me, instead he was looking at something in front of him, or someone. I wasn't able to see what it was since the man was blocking my view.

"What do you want with me?" I tried to say. My voice was hoarse due to my continuous deep breaths I was taking to calm myself when we were walking. When the man heard me he whipped around. I couldn't see his face or the type of expression it held due to the shadows that were cast on his face. "The Queen would talk to a lowly peasant like myself?" The man snickered. He took a step toward me, making it easier to see his face. I didn't know this man. I wracked my memory for anything, even the slightest interaction. I had no memory of ever meeting this man before. He took another step toward me. "Is the Queen comfortable?" He grabbed onto the ropes that tied me onto the wooden chair and yanked onto them. I gasped as the searing pain returned to my arms. "Good," He whispered. When I looked into his eyes I saw the same thing I saw in Henry's, but at the same time, there was something else. They almost looked empty, like there was no life to them at all.

"What do you want with me?" I asked again. This time as strongly as I could muster. The man looked confused at first when he pulled away from the ropes. Then he took a step to the side, revealing the person he was covering this whole time.

It was Francis.

I was getting used to this feeling. The feeling when my emotions turn jagged and my insides tightened. The feeling of powerlessness.

Francis' head hung low and his eyes were closed. Did the man hit him? Was that the noise I had heard earlier? "What did you do to him?" I almost growled. I was attempting to pull away from my restraints to get to Francis. The man turned toward me. "He was a fighter, unlike you." It almost sounded like he had killed Francis. I whipped toward Francis and tried to find any sign of life. My heart was quickening and I could feel my body trying to shut down on me, but I saw his chest begin to lift and fall back down. Francis was alive. The man had only knocked him out. I let out a sigh of relief. Thank god. Before the man could speak again Francis let out a small groan. When he tried to lift his hands and was unsuccessful, his eyes widened. He lifted his head up but winced. The pain from the blow the man had given him must have shown up. When he opened his eyes again the first thing he saw was me tied in a wooden chair. "Mary?!" Francis said loudly. He attempted to out of the ropes but failed. He searched the room for answers and when he saw the man his eyes grew wider. "Marceau?" Marceau smiled faintly then it quickly disappeared. "You remember me. How thoughtful."

"What is this? Why have you taken us?" Francis questioned him. Marceau walked over to Francis. Without warning, he slammed his fist into Francis' stomach. I gasped at the sight and tried to reach out to Francis. "Francis!" I screamed."That was for earlier." Marceau took a step away from Francis and brushed his hand through his black, short hair to put back any stray hairs. "Do you know what happened to me? Why I disappeared from court?" Francis said nothing as he tried to recover from the punch to his stomach. "Your father ruined me. He cut off all my trade just because he could!" His voice began to rise at every word that left his mouth. He paced between us as he continued. "Then my son got sick. I had no money to get a healer. My son, who was only 4 years-old, died in his mother's arms. My wife couldn't bear the pain of losing her child, so she killed herself. She left me behind!"

"I'm sorry-" Marceau didn't allow Francis to finish. "I burned my house to the ground. I didn't want to see any more memories of them. Now, all I have left is my office." He motioned to the whole room. Then he slowly turned toward Francis. "Was my office." Marceau turned toward me. "While I am haunted every day and every night by my child's cries and from the blood of my wife, you live lavishly. You are served trays and trays of food. You are spoiled with dresses and jewelry from around the world. Now, someone needs to suffer." He paused as he walked up to the wooden desk. He unrolled a leather pouch and picked up something from inside of it. "Now, someone needs to pay."