The Marshal stood watch for a moment, just to be sure Sam would stay silent and hidden -- just to be certain the room appeared to be empty except for the unhappy princess' cage. When he was satisfied he took up a candle in one hand and descended purposefully into the dungeon.

Dorothea smacked her mouth; would it have killed the Marshal to leave her a bowl of water and a pillow? "That archway goes straight to the castle," she told Sam quietly, meaningfully. "But the Queen is probably just on the other side." Crossing the forest -- in her condition, and with Sam's lack of experience -- had proven impossible without escort. Unless they could find some help from the natives or the bandits -- or even the fairies -- that archway was their best option. Dorothea's ears flicked back; the Marshal's voice was echoing up the stairs, but distant.

"Get out, both of you," the Marshal was saying. He swung the dungeon door open and waited for the tweedles to scuffle their way into the hall. "While you were [i]cowering[/i] I captured the cat myself." He slammed the door behind them, and three sets of footsteps trundled up the stairs.

One of the guards -- bloody-nose -- piped up: "What about the girl?"

"The Jockal was busy chewing on her while I grabbed the cat," the Marshal responded immediately, as if it had obviously been the plan all along to feed Sam to the monster as a distraction. The two guards shuffled into the room, stiff from sleeping in their armor, a little bit heartbroken at the loss of their chance to skewer the otherworld girl -- but soon they were distracted and grinning at the sight of Dorothea hackled in her cage. They poked their fingers at her, and the Marshal shoved them toward the archway with a deep scowl.

"Go inform the Queen that we've completed our mission," he barked. The guards did not like this idea at all -- they fidgeted and announced it was too late to bother the queen, that it should wait til morning -- but the Marshal only had to raise himself a little taller and give them a certain deadly look before they consented to straighten their uniforms, comb their fingers through their hair, and march one after the other into the archway. One after the other, they disappeared.

The moment they were gone, the Marshal swung his candle toward the dark corner by the table and snapped his fingers. "You -- otherworlder, whatever your name is, get up," he growled. "Follow me, quickly." They had minutes, tops, before the Queen arrived to see the caged princess. He could only hope she was otherwise preoccupied for the moment.

The Marshal led the way back through a narrow hallway, then out along the edge of a small courtyard. He stopped at a wooden door, threw it open, and shoved the candle into Sam's hands. "Stay here until I come for you. Don't open the door for anyone else. The Queen cannot know you're here, do you understand?" He watched her in deathly seriousness.

----

It wasn't long before King Tommen arrived in the doorway with Raquelle on his arm. The King was a skinny man, with a gray cast to his black hair and an everlasting smile in his dark eyes, so like his daughter's. He was draped in bright and intricately embroidered silks that made him look even smaller than he was. "Prince Liam!" he called with an easy smile. "We weren't at all expecting -- but what is the trouble, my young man?" His expression fell to worry at the look in Liam's eyes, and he patted Raquelle's hand. "Dorothea was only on her way to see you."

Raquelle -- as fair and beautiful as her mother -- curled her fingers at her mouth, and she stared at Liam with tear-filled eyes. It was a pretty and perfect imitation of empathy.