Tampered Beauty

Witch

"The French left you to the wolves. They left you, a queen of three countries, in a convent. No protection. No anything. You were held captive for years by the English, and they allowed it. How can you defend them?" their captor hissed.

"They did indeed to all those things. However, Timothy, the English attack on the convent left all but me dead. They usually wish to take responsibility for their actions, but why would they risk international war, to get something they had wanted for years?

"Not at all," she smirked. He went to punch her, but she casually rolled out of the way. "Is that all you're going to throw at me? If it is, I'm disappointed," she complained slightly, walking almost casually. "Now, down to business," she said casually, snapping her bonds with ease. "You've taken those I care for hostage. I have a problem with that. No matter your motives, these people will go back to where they belong, and you will suffer for this treasonous act."

"You figured out a way to get free." he observed.

"Of course I did. A little trick I learned when the English kidnapped me from a Brecon fortress. Simply burn the ropes and they will fall whenever you please," she smirked. "You left us alone, without binding our feet. It made my job so easy. Child's play, really." she nodded once.

"You really think I wouldn't have a plan for when your facade comes into play?" he grinned, reaching behind him, pulling out the handle of a blade. Mary smirked, reaching behind her own body and onto one of the chairs, bringing up the actual blade. He scowled. She smirked wider, raising her eyebrows in challenge.

"Goodness, is killing you going to take all night?" he asked, irritated.

"More than likely so," she smiled. "Are you busy?" she questioned as they started to circle each other.

"Not at all," he grinned. He walked in circles with the young queen, grabbing an arbalest from underneath a gold and red silk pillow. He went to fire, but nothing happened. Mary chuckled, pulling out three arrows from the arm of an overstuffed chair.

"Impressive for a child, I will admit." he nodded once. "You noticed?" he asked.

"Of course I did. I've had to do a lot of that to keep my head over my reign," Mary narrowed her eyes as he let the gun fall to the floor. She did the same with her arrows, not looking at her fellow captives as she walked slowly over to the man, watching as he stared into her eyes, before reaching into the bowl of apples, pears and strawberries, bringing out a dagger and throwing it. Mary quickly reached into her belt and pulled out her own, throwing it, listening as the silver crashed into each other and fell to the ground with a 'clunk'.

"It's all very good, your way of doing things, I will admit. And this has surprised me, majesty. I didn't realise one would use my own weapons against me. You've even used fire to your advantage," he noticed, looking down at the burned rope on the floor. " But now, it's my turn." he brought a small hand cannon and aimed it at Mary and Francis, whom she was standing near in their circling. Catherine screamed and Timothy yelled in frustration, as Mary mockingly dangled the piece of rope he needed to burn close to her face.