While August remained on guard outside -- as he would until the small hours of the morning -- Raquelle paused awhile at the fire. She was looking after Sam, and Dorothea. The princess could understand the cat's speech perfectly well, and she also understood that Sam was on friendly terms with both Dorothea [i]and[/i] the Marshal. Her mother hadn't mentioned anyone else traveling with the Marshal. Her mouth thinned and her eyes narrowed: this [i]Samantha[/i] girl could be nothing but trouble to her mother's plans -- to [i]her[/i] plans of marrying Liam.

After awhile, Raquelle followed Sam into the tent, and though she smiled sweetly her eyes were full of venom. "Well ... [i]Samantha[/i] ... I'm sure you and your [i]feline[/i] are tired from your journey. Here is a bed roll for you." Where the princess had a passably comfortable mattress rolled out on a rug, what was left for Sam was little more than a blanket on the ground. "Good night," she said quickly, and, leaving no room for Sam to get a word in, she blew out her candle and laid down, fully clothed, to sleep.

When Dorothea was finally let down to the ground, she shook herself all over. "I'm really beginning to dislike being carried," she whispered. "When I have proper legs again I will walk across the kingdom before I will submit to a horse or carriage." She gave an awful look to Raquelle's back. "I can't sleep here, I'm sorry. Maybe that poison will wear off soon and Liam will understand me." She had very low hopes of that happening, but she couldn't give up. It wasn't in her blood to give up. She would go out to Liam's tent and watch over him, and think. There had to be a way to get her message across.