They had been sparring in an open place in the forest close to their camp. At the breaking of dawn she had managed to sneak out of her tent, fully dressed in her usual flowy trousers and shirt, her hair in a messy bun with the shortest strands already sticking out. 

He had waited for her at the edge of the forest, hands in his pockets, casually leaning against a tree. She had smiled when she saw him. So familiar in his dark clothes, the way he had straightened at the sight of her, slowly moving his gaze over her body, a light shade of pink colouring his face. She had pretended not to notice and they had walked into the forest without exchanging a word. 

---

She sat up, barely able to keep in a groan. Next to her Mason stirred, but his breathing stayed even. She looked around. It had always been a small tent. There was just enough space for a mattress, a little table with sitting pillows and a separate washing space which also served as a closet.

Her breathing stopped as she felt it again, a soft tugging. Something was trying to get out. She closed her eyes, allowing the feeling to spread. Letting it build inside of her and welcoming the strange fullness it made her feel. She had heard stories about the settling, but they never involved fainting. So she reached within herself, desperate for answers, and found nothing. Then, all of a sudden, a rush of warmth causing her to collapse, leaving her gasping for air. Alright, no more digging today. 

Instead, she focussed on the conversation taking place just outside of her tent. She could recognise two voices, her mother and her grandmother, but the others were unfamiliar to her. There had to be at least three, maybe four, others. Male speakers with ruff voices. She could not hear what they were saying, but something in the tone of her mother's voice made her feel cold.

She jumped as a hand clasped over her mouth, another one on her shoulder. From the corner of her eye she could see Mason, a strange look in his eyes. She suppressed the colour threatening to rise to her cheeks and kept still. He let go of her once he noticed her stare and put a finger to his lips, motioning for her to be quiet. 

She could see the strain on his face and realised that he was listening to the conversation. With his heightened senses he would be able to hear what was being said, so she waited, following every line of his body with her eyes. He was tense. The way he stood, slightly hunched, his head tilted towards the conversation, told her something was happening. 

When the voices stopped Mason turned back to her. Pointing at her mattress, he took two quick steps and was sitting on the pile of pillows again, his face a blank. When she continued looking at him, her brows furrowed, he pointed at her mattress again and this time, although confused, she did as she was told and lay back down. 

She had just closed her eyes when she heard the footsteps from outside of her tent. There was a sudden flash of light and she knew the strange men had entered, feeling their presence in the small space and their eyes on her. 

'She is asleep,' Mason said, his voice was stern. She could hear him shift in his seat. 

'You will have to come back later,' her mother said. Not a question. 'If you would please follow me.' A sudden flood of light told her her mother had opened the tent again. 

But she could feel the men closing in, ignoring her mother. She suddenly realised who they were. She must have been asleep for hours if the queens guard was already here.  

Every step they took, pressure build inside of her. The odd feeling of something wanting out. 

She was only barely able to keep it in when the guards stopped next to her mattress. A hand was already hovering over her face when someone coughed curtly, Mason, and the hand disappeared. Without any exchange of words the party left, leaving her and Mason behind, creating a cold emptiness in her tent.