Raquelle gave Liam a slack-jawed look as if the prince were completely out of his mind. "I can't [i]ride[/i] in [i]this[/i]!" she squeaked, holding out her dress for him to see. "And my shoes! These are certainly not riding boots. Oh, [i]Liam[/i]!" She gave him a pretty, pleading look -- but the look [i]he[/i] gave [i]her[/i] was not to be wavered. Oh, [i]what[/i] would her mother do?

Eventually she took a breath (a hard feat to accomplish, for she'd had her servants compress her ribcage into a quaint little corset) and she smiled sweetly. "All right, then. I will have my horse prepared. I won't be long!" she added playfully, smiling just for her prince, and she spun around with a flourish and trotted back into the castle.

A half-hour later she arrived again, accompanied by a side-saddled mare and three servants on their geldings. She had switched her polished shoes for riding boots, and required a stool and a strong assistant to hoist her into the saddle. She arranged her hair around her shoulders, imagining herself to appear mythical on the back of her quiet steed. Surely a little ride would be refreshing, she told herself.

Less than an hour into the journey, however, she began complaining to her servants of the insects that buzzed around her fruit-scented hair, and of the chafing of her saddle, and the unevenness of the road. "Liam!" she called out sweetly, two hours into the ride. "Why don't we stop for a picnic? I've brought watercress sandwiches!"

---

Alphonse blinked at Sam in surprise -- he hadn't expected this kind of tone from her, and he wasn't sure what to do. He shuffled his hat between his hands, and he smiled uncertainly. "Um ... good morning, Sam. Did you sleep well?"

The Marshal, still gagged, watched her with a trace of a satisfied grin.

Coralie, over by the remains of the fire, waved a spatula for attention. "You can come with us, though I don't see why, but you've made up yer mind I take it." She let out a heavy sigh, and she pointed the spatula at the Marshal. "Are you also sayin' you'll take charge of him? 'Cause I'm not carryin' him all the way to Doc Jolly's stable."

The Marshal growled audibly at this -- like hell he would allow himself to be [i]carried[/i].

"An' what'll it look like when we get to the castle and we've got an Eldonia guard prisoner?" Coralie went on. "They'll throw us out afore we get in!"