The Little Boy from the White Hart lay curled in a tight ball. His soft brown hair was caked in dried blood and his eyes were closed. Guinevere took a deep breath and sat hesitantly on the small cot, putting a maternal hand on the boy's forehead. His clothes were made damp by blood. She regained her composure and reached to the small table next to the bed, cleaning the wounds with precision and winding bandages around his wounds. She almost forgot Genya's gaze as she brushed the matted hair from the boy's face, it was cut and sliced, she knew this was her fault. Her blood burned.

"Was he alone?" she spat out, staring down at her barely breathing charge. His chest was rising and falling in delicate huffs as she rested her hand against his back to give him some semblance of comfort.

"Why do you ask? Do you know this boy?" Genya questioned, looking curiously at Guinevere who kept her gaze focused on the young boy.

Guinevere didn't get to respond to Genya's poignant question as his little eyelashes fluttered open and his warm brown eyes flickered to Guinevere. His little pink lips quivered as Guinevere sat next to him on the small cot. The boy reached out a hand and Guinevere clasped it, stroking the scratched skin and tipped his head towards her which gave her a better look at the wounds on his head and face. The world slowed and stood still, frozen, Guinevere gently held the boy's hand as he winced against her side whilst she dabbed his head wound with an alcohol-soaked cloth. Genya watched silently from the far side of the bed, observing the gentle scene in the corner of the bustling infirmary.

"I am so sorry little one," Guinevere said, restraining the maternal urge to use her gift. The boy will survive without it she scolded herself. She sat silently at the small child's side, resting her hand on his back to sense the beat of his heart and the flutter of his lungs. It weighed on her heart, she knew she should not have left the boy with that Monster. Realisation bubbled in her stomach and lifted her eyes to examine the full extent of the boy's injuries. He had been badly beaten, the sickening bruise of a sword hilt, maybe he had been attacked in his sleep. Phantoms of what could have happened to this poor innocent child swarmed around Guinevere.

Genya watched Guinevere's uncanny gentleness towards her small charge, not noticing when she called her name. She tapped the young woman on the shoulder and she flashed her stormy eyes up towards her, her posture had gone rigid. "I will leave this one to you, make sure you give him plenty of fluids and keep his bandages fresh". Guinevere only nodded slowly, not a word slipping from her cold lips as Genya pushed open the white curtain and let it flutter back into place behind her.

Guinevere continued to watch over the boy, not leaving for a moment. The guilt pressed into her skin and stomach, knowing she could have saved this young boy from his suffering. When the sun had started to set, the boy shifted in his sleep and his eyes opened again but this time he was fully conscious. Guinevere helped him sit up as his body was still weak and she shifted him with ease.

He inclined to the side and examined her features, "You are the Lady from the Inn, you tried to help us". Guinevere smiled and nodded as she watched his little face light up with joy.

"Who did this to you?" she asked, her voice icy, her eyes had turned to slits and the boy's face fell, his eyes stared into the fabric of the blanket.

"We were attacked on the road not far from Daventry, where we met you, Miss. He wasn't able to fight them off at first because he did not have his sword but he still got them all." This story shattered the images of the cruel Monster in her mind and she looked at the boy in confusion before she motioned for him to continue his tale. "He was able to track you to the Red Keep but he was taken down to the Dudgeons because they still think he's still with them," said the boy hurriedly. He wriggled in protest and Guinevere shushed him, her eyes flashing in warning.

"Please Miss, he is innocent, they will kill him if you don't him," said the small boy, gripping the blanket until his little fists turned white.

"Before we start on a grand rescue plan. I would first like to know my comrade's name." Guinevere said, trying to distract the child from his scheme and she let out a small breath as his face brightened.

"My name is Sir Squirrel Miss", he said, puffing out his little chest in a professional manner and sticking out his hand, Guinevere smiled.

"My name is Guinevere Archer and it is lovely to finally meet you Sir Squirrel" taking his little hand in her warm one. She willed a feeling of calm and drowsiness over her small charge and he slumped back onto the soft pillow. Guinevere slowly stood from her post and looked over Squirrel, she felt a wave of confused guilt, she always had a soft spot for children.

As she quietly shut the door to the infirmary and wandered down towards the kitchens. She fought her new knowledge, someone like him could not spare a small child, let alone protect the spawn of the enemy. She composed herself before entering the bustle of the kitchens through a wooden archway.

The kitchens were packed with people, the chefs, bulky mountain men slaved over vats of soups and stews. Scullery maids zipped around a large centre preparation table, chopping vegetables, meat and fish. Guinevere kept her left hand on the back wall as she edged around the carefully curated chaos.

"Hey Guinevere, over here!" shouted a welcoming and warm voice from above the rattle of pots and pans. Guinevere smiled as she looked up and saw Marina waving at her from a table situated through another archway on the other side of the humungous kitchens. Guinevere quickly meandered around the maze of the kitchen and joined Marina's table.

"You do know you can go through that door?" said a sour-faced blonde-haired girl, pointing her fork at a door which Guinevere hadn't noticed.

"Don't be cruel Becca, she's new" said Marina sharply.

"How is he doing?" Genya asked as she pushed a steaming bowl of flavourful chicken soup towards Guinevere, who sat down tentatively next to her. Guinevere took it happily and stirred the soup with a wooden spoon.

"He woke up" She smiled softly, tucking into the delicious soup and Genya tutted in approval.

"Wait! You don't mean the little boy who came with the Weeping Monk?" said Marina over her soup, her eyes sparkling with excitement. All eyes turned to Guinevere who slowly gulped her soup.

"Yes, just the one," she responded to her eager audience.

"Are you lot coming to the Basilican Chamber tomorrow to see the trial?" gushed Marina "I wonder if he is as cruel and wicked as the tales. I heard he drinks the blood of Fae and grinds children into bread and kills moon-wings in their sleep".

"You should stop listening to traders in the lower markets, they are full of tall tales to buy your business," said Genya shortly. She passed her softened gaze over Guinevere who had begun fiddling with her silver pendant and was keeping herself busied by soup. "To answer your question, yes we are all coming to the trial Marina," she said slowly, keeping her eyes focused on Guinevere. "Are you going to come Guinevere?", Guinevere snapped out of her trance, touching her pendant.

"Yes I will come," she said with a forced smile. Marina beamed and Becca rolled her eyes which earned her a playful slap on the arm from her bubbly friend. Guinevere returned to her soup as Marina waved goodbye and Becca slinked off.

"I know you know that boy more than you are letting on. He isn't just patient with you, is he?" Genya whispered, the sound ghosting over Guinevere's ear. Guinevere went rigged and gripped her wooden spoon. The dining hall was now empty apart from a few groups who were just out of earshot, snacking on dry biscuits and mugs of warm ale. Guinevere turned to face Genya who was serious, a far cry from her initial warmth.

"I met him on the road here. I did not know his name until he came here. That is all." Guinevere responded sharply, picking up her empty bowl and dropping it into the soapy vat next to the table.

"Just be careful, Hexenbiests are difficult to come across," Genya said under her breath, brushing past Guinevere through the door Becca had pointed to earlier. Guinevere snapped her head up as Genya flashed her a wolfish smile, and her blood stirred. Guinevere turned her back to the archway, drew herself back up and walked back towards the kitchens, forcing one foot in front of the other.

Guinevere wandered back to her room in the infirmary through the dormant motionless corridor. The chilly stone reflected the torchlight and Guinevere shivered wrapping her new foreign cloak to her skin. She ran her fingers across the cold stone and silently contemplated her family, her grandmother, the people she had left behind in favour of this safe, hollow structure of imperial might and domestic irregularity.

When she had clambered up the tall spiral staircase, she folded herself into the warm embrace of her new bed. She had kicked off her shoes and put on her long white night dress and tucked herself in. She played absentmindedly with her necklace and thought of her grandmother and Nina. She prayed they were safe and she did not pray often. Still, she thought of them and hoped that they were safe and the Paladins had decided that their small market town was of no strategic importance. Guinevere fell asleep thinking of the golden memories of her only family, Grandmother and Nina.

Guinevere woke early the next morning and pulled on her overdress and plaited her hair up into a pretty crown. She rushed down the stairs and briskly walked towards the kitchen as her stomach growled and clawed in protest.

"Hey wait for me." came a bubbly and familiar voice from behind her. Marina wore a dark red hijab which glowed in the early morning sun as if it was a torrent of fire. Guinevere smiled and slowed her pace.

After they had reached the kitchens, Marina and Guinevere filled up their plates with eggs, meats and warm ale and sat at the same table from the night before. The servant's dining hall was brimming with people even though it was still only just gone sunrise and low chatter reverberated off the walls.

"Where is Genya?" Guinevere asked Marina who was preoccupied with her eggs.

"Oh, she is probably helping Madame Bonaire set up for the trial", Guinevere nodded, wishing she had not asked. Her stomach was full by the time she was finished but she felt queasy from the notion that she knew she was going set eyes on him again.

Then a low bell reverberated off the stone walls and all the talking went silent. Marina pulled Guinevere to her feet quickly, she cringed back not used to being shoved around. Every servant seemed to understand what the bell meant but Guinevere was overwhelmed with the sudden swell of activity. Marina tugged Guinevere down a new hall as people jostled the young women creating a current of bodies.

"It's time, come one" Marina urged her and Guinevere swallowed her nerves and followed her through the wall of flesh, she fought to suppress the thunderous beat of hundreds of hearts beating in sync clashing in her ears. Marina pulled her down a long set of stone steps that was void of people, who instead were piling through a pair of double doors.

"I got Genya to give us special permission so we can sit with her" Marina beamed opening a low door and Guinevere ducked through.

The Basilican Chamber was a gigantic throne room, the walls were covered in richly decorated tapestries. Marina, still holding onto her hand, pulled Guinevere excitably towards Genya who state straight along a row of seats on the furthest left-hand side of an elevated platform. On the platform stood a throne made of carved oak, it was embossed with gold and silver. It was shaped like a chariot and had wings which encircled the whole platform. To the right of the intricately carved throne was another lavishly decorated wooden throne, this one was only embossed with silver. Guinevere put her hand up to shield her eyes from the glare from the windows and looked up to watch the flurry and clamour of the servants on the top balcony.

Then the main grand carved double doors of the chamber opened and out poured nobles, guards and advisors in groups and pairs. Guinevere watched open-mouthed at these dolls of aristocracy in their dyed lace and silk gowns. Soon the hall was full of finery and scullery maids alike.

Suddenly a booming voice called out and Guinevere's attention snapped back to the double doors.

"All rise for His Royal Majesty King Edward of Mesia and Her Royal Majesty Queen Cersi of Mesia, the Archduchess of Abyssinia". Guinevere hurriedly came to her feet, as did a thousand others, as the King and Queen entered the room.

The King was a tall intimidating man with dark blonde hair, his simple gold circle nestled on his head. His face was stately and he surveyed the throne room with a wide gaze, his gate was levelled and controlled. Queen Cersi was as beautiful as the tales had told, Guinevere admired her regal features which looked as if they had been carved from the darkest obsidian. Her hair was coiled into elaborate plaits of gold and her throat dripped with diamonds and rubies. The King gently let go of the Queen's hand, helping her up the stairs off the platform and they settled into their thrones.

When the King had settled, the room relaxed and regained their seats. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a flash of recognisable long black hair tied back in a ponytail. Clarence was sat in the front row opposite the two thrones, his eyes were focused on King Edward and hands resting in his lap.

The King beckoned to a guard and the doors opened for the last time and Guinevere's breath lurched in her throat as low mumbles echoed off the walls. She watched as a giant of a woman clad in chain mail stepped forward with the Weeping Monk following behind her. He was forced to kneel before the two thrones and was chained like a vicious animal to a small hook drilled into the floor.

"How do you plead your crimes against humanity and the Fae?" King Edward asked breathing seemed to stop. The Monk stared up in defiance at the King and Queen. His black Ash Marks were clear for all to see, no cloak to hide behind now.