August continued to watch her thoughtfully, with a small curious smile, even as he accepted the gag back into his mouth. He decided he'd done all he could -- that if Sam never believed him, his own plans had not failed. He still had the queen's trust, he could still make his plans to take her down the moment she turned her back. It might mean taking the kingdoms to the brink of war, but the alternative was far more disastrous. While Sam moved away he closed his eyes, though knowing he would never sleep, and he planned for his escape.

At the news of Sam's decision against the Marshal's manipulations, Dorothea and the dwarves breathed a collective sigh of relief.

"You two can take this tent all to yourselves," Alphonse piped, hopping to his feet again, and he took off his hat while he led Sam and the princess to one of the farthest tents, laden with wind chimes and embroidered in a rainbow of threaded trees and birds. Inside was one thick straw mattress and piles of blankets and pillows in all shapes and sizes. "Coralie and I will be in the opposite, and Florian in the third. He snores like a bear in winter."

"I do not!" Florian called in protest while he jammed his nightcap on his head.

"So if he disturbs you terribly," Alphonse went on, "just march over there and give him a swift kick in the head."

"Works like a charm!" Coralie agreed, grinning. Florian frowned and rubbed his head.

Alphonse's expression turned a bit more serious. "Princess, we will retrieve you at dawn. We have a friend not far from here who I think will lend us some horses -- we'll head there first, then we'll ride to the capital."

"Thank you, Alphonse," Dorothea said with a courteous bow of her head. "We deeply appreciate everything you've done for us."

Alphonse fidgeted with his hat, smiling, and he bowed a little to Dorothea, then to Sam, before heading off to his own tent.