Liam was very still in the armchair, slumping in a defeated, undignified sort of way, until he felt a touch. He assumed in the first instant that it was Will again, but when he felt the nuzzling against his face he twitched. His brown eyes opened, not that it made any difference at all, but they had gone wide. This was familiar to him. He had felt this sort of touch before, this sort of comforting affection, from one person. The familiarity only increased as he felt his hair being stroked, and Liam took a very shaky breath. He could feel himself trembling slightly and was trying to swallow back a moan. And when he did make a sound he uttered the first work he had spoken since entering this farmhouse.

[i]"...Dorothea..."[/i]

Will had started helping the man distribute food to the cold looking men milling about. They all looked ragged and still in sleepwear and they all accepted the bowls and the biscuits like they were at a banquet. Will felt himself still murmuring thank yous to the big man and forced himself to shut up. Once all of the bowls were passed around Will took one, but rather than eat the stew himself he went back over to Liam. Samantha's cat was with him and the prince's head had rose and his sightless eyes were open. "My lord, you have to eat..."

"Dorothea."

Will looked up, startled. "...What?"

"Dorothea is here, Will. I felt her..."

"Liam," Will began slowly, biting his lip in concern, "It's just the cat. Miss Shea's cat..."

Liam reached up and felt around until his fingers touched the cat and his brows furrowed as they stroked the fur. "She...she was here. Her fingers...through my hair...like she always did..."

~~~~~

Sam watched his face as he spoke, seeing the stone in his expressed and hearing the steel in his voice. This was the Marshal talking now. His words were cold, giving her a chill and forcing her to suppress a shiver. But they also made her more than a little bit...angry. She was too tired to be angry but she felt it all the same. She suddenly wanted out of his arms, feeling disgusted that earlier she had actually asked him to carry her (even though she knew she hadn't been able to walk after her little adventure). Speaking of her adventure he had told her that she had been sleepwalking, but just now he had told her that nearly died. And Liam had been poisoned? But he was still going to...lie. Like he had been doing. He was just going to carry on and apparently not trust her, even though earlier that day he had confided to her that she was the only person he could trust. Well...not any more it seemed. He seemed to be pushing her away.

It hurt. More than she cared to admit. Sam had started trusting him that day. Or maybe she had started trusting him the previous night. Despite everything he had done. She had believed in what he had told her during their private conversations. Maybe she had been too quick to forget. Maybe...she had misjudged their relationship. 

He had told her not to argue. But she was so, so bad at following orders from idiots. "Here he is," Sam heard herself say, sarcasm in her tone. "Marshal August Derrick. Admitting that his lies and actions have caused the pain and suffering of so many people. And yet...he's going to continue the lying and the secret keeping. Because it's obviously worked out so well so far. And he's shoving away the one person who he's admitted he can trust. Flawless plan. But you know what? Fine. Whatever. Do what you want, Marshal." She said the title with a hint of contempt. "But I won't help you lie." She went quiet for a moment, looking at the lights in the windows of the farmhouse they were fast approaching, then she turned back to him. "You told me the other night that my judgement is worth more than an army. Well, just in case it wasn't clear, I'm judging you. Really, really hard."

Her speech and her anger at him had drained her of the energy her little nap had given her, and the warmth of the farmhouse covered her like a blanket. There was a fire, comfy chairs, the smell of food, and maybe even something that resembled a bathtub. But for right now she just wanted to lay down on something soft and sleep for hours. She took a glance around the room and spotted Will crouching in front of an almost unrecognizable Liam, and Dorothea hovering close by. She felt like it had been eons since she had last spoken to her, but Sam knew that if Liam was hurt then Dorothea wouldn't leave him. There was always tomorrow. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. "Put me anywhere flat, I don't care," she told the Marshal in a passive tone. She didn't want him to know that his words were still hurting her. She didn't want to admit it herself.