Mary didn't look back, not until they were miles away from the castle. Her heart was already shattered into so many pieces, hearing Francis call for her when she left him and the court behind. She knew if she had looked back she wouldn't have had the courage to leave. They managed a good distance that first night and Bash had been remarkably quiet as Mary had huddled by herself and sobbed herself to sleep. But by morning, she seemed to have put herself back into some semblance of order. Her cheeks were red from her tears, but she had managed to gather water for the horses from a nearby stream.

She knew they still had a long journey ahead of them and an even longer one by boat before they would reach Scotland. No doubt Francis would be hot on their trail, whether or not he had his father's blessing to go after her. She knew he would try to reach her, try to talk sense into her and if she saw him again she might just let him.

The next evening proved to be far too cold to forgo building a fire. Mary didn't know what use she could be until Bash sent her to gather some wood. Even that simple task left her breathless. Her corset wasn't made for any sort of labor.

She realized they hadn't spoken beyond a few small words here and there, but she was grateful for Bash's company. She didn't know how she could have ever gotten through all of this on her own. Just by being here, he comforted her. She didn't have to make this journey, this great sacrifice alone.

"Is this enough wood?"