Erin
Lady Jasmine Thèvenet 
Bladegarden, Provincial Thèvenet 

He was hurting her with his grip. The pain brought back her reasoning, which was lost in her desperation. He was right. The Queen would not listen. Talk was meaningless without results.

But what if she studied it? Surely there must be a cure. If she could just get a few patients-

"Promise me."

She felt herself being shaken, Elroy's hands tight on her shoulders, his fingers tearing into her flesh. She saw no longer worry, but fear in his eyes. He thought she would be killed if she spoke against The Circle, or Xolile, in any fashion.

She couldn't promise that she would not try another way, but she knew that talking to the Queen was useless.

"I promise," She whispered, staring up at him.
Carol
Lord Elroy Thèvenet 
Bladegarden, Provincial Thèvenet 

Elroy nodded solemnly, letting go of her shoulders, his arms falling to his side. "Good." His eyes traveled to the plants she was cutting earlier and he contemplated his own next actions. He didn't want to be a part of so many deaths, but if Xolile willed it, he would obey. "I need to prepare our troops." He replied calmly, though there was a steel edge to his tone. 

Elroy looked back and his wife and let his arm snake around her waist, pulling her closely against him once more. "I love you." He whispered against her lips, kissing them gently. As he pulled back, his hand tucked a lock of red hair behind her ear. Elroys gaze grew serious. "Do not put us in a position I cannot get us out of." His words, while vague held secret meaning. If his wife put herself in the path of the Queen with such thoughts there was little he could do to protect her.
Erin
Lady Jasmine Thèvenet 
Bladegarden, Provincial Thèvenet 

Jasmine felt a wave of emotions as Elroy kissed her. Frustration. Pity. Love. Longing. Horror.

*Loneliness.*

If she caught the Plague, would he also so easily give her up to the flames? Would he sit in quiet agony as she was burned at the stake?

"I love you."

He said other words after this, but Jasmine didn't care to notice what they were. *"I love you,"* Her husband had said. It was a phrase he showed through daily actions, but said rarely. Normally such words would make her heart sing, but now they only made her sorrow more heavy.

*"I know you love me,"* Jasmine thought, staring at his broad chest. One that would carry the blood of so many innocents. Though it was the Queen's decree, it was his command which would see it through. *"And you love your people."*

 A sadness pierced her heart as she saw her husband's serious, resolute expression.

*"But your loyalty to Xoliles seems to be driving your actions now, my love. That and fear."*

*"And I love you. But you are a fool."*

A fool.

She wrapped her arms around his neck as she hugged him, resting her cheek against his strong shoulder. Her expression had changed. It was now hardened, determined. Calculating what her next move would be. And she knew if he saw it, it would frighten him.

As he did what he believed was right, she would be doing what *She* Believed was right. She did not think she could live with herself if she did not attempt to help her people in someway. She had to try, and she had to before it was too late.

*"But I'm sure that soon,"* She thought as she held close to her husband, *"You will think me a fool as well."*
Carol
Lord Elroy Thèvenet 
Bladegarden, Provincial Thèvenet 

Elroy held his wife tightly around the torso aware of how inappropriate the action was in public. At the moment, however, he didn't care. The man knew what he was asking of her would be difficult. 

*'In fact, I don't think she will fully comply.'* Elroy was not a fool. Normally he would not take measures to ensure that she comply with his wishes - she had never put him in a position to need to. Today she had. The lord gently removed her arms from his neck and pushed her back with a forced smile. "I'll leave you to torture the servants by making them watch you harvest your herbs. See you at dinner." 

He left her in the greenhouse to seek out his second in command, Andrès. 
"Have you never ridden a horse boy?" The brawny, dirty-blonde general asked exasperated as a boy in the stables undid the saddle straps for the third time. Elroy smirked watching from the stable gates as the boy rushed to undo his saddle straps and tighten them. "Andrès." The general glanced at Elroy and nodded before turning back to the squire. "Learn it or you'll find yourself dead in the next lesson." The boys face paled. "Y-yes sir." As Andrès made his way to Elroy the lord began to walk away from the stables to give them privacy. As he slowed, Andrès spoke. "My lord?"

"Which men are a part of my wifes guard?"
"Theo, Nasir, Braxle, and Credence. Have they done something?" 
"No." Elroy shook his head. "I want to be informed of her movements. Quietly." 
"They will communicate through me." Andrès would follow the order, but he found it odd. Elroy had never put restrictions on his wife or requested information. Though curious, he decided not to pursue the line of questioning. "Is there anything else?" 
Elroy paused and thought, glancing towards the training yard where some men were sparring. Silence hung in the air, distrubed by the occasional locking of swords. "No. I will join you for the drills later." As if to confirm his thoughts, Elroy nodded. "That is all." 
"Yes, my Lord." Andrès left Elroy standing a few feet away from the stables, but the lord didn't return to their house until a tirade disrupted his thoughts.
Erin
Lady Jasmine Thèvenet 
Private Washroom, Provincial Thèvenet 

Jasmine laid in the tub, staring vacantly at the ceiling.

She had seen the trouble that lingered on Elroy's face as he bid her farewell, and it was still apparent as he made light conversation during dinner. He did not trust her to keep her promise not to meddle. He knew her too well.

How foolish it had been to voice her thoughts so carelessly. Talking to the Queen? How childish she had been. Jasmine's face twisted in disgust. Normally, she was able to think clearly. Logically. But in a situation where it mattered most, she had failed to do so. She swallowed her anger. It would do her no good to reflect on what happened. She must plan for the future.

She noticed her fingers were pruned. The water was cold. Normally, a lady of her rank would have a maid or two accompany them during their bath to wash their hair, or to gossip.

Jasmine viewed this time as a time to herself. She allowed the maids to wait outside of the washroom, but never inside while she was undressed.

She did not want them seeing the scars.

She rose from the tub, water dripping on the stone floor. 

With her extensive knowledge of salves and ointments, Jasmine could have easily made the white marks covering her body vanish. And she did, to an extent. Where those would normally see, her skin was flawless. But underneath, the delicate, almost beautiful scars stayed as a reminder. A reminder of what she had previously been through. Of what she had lost.

She toweled herself off before putting on her nightgown. She could feel the fabric on her back dampen as her wet hair soaked the blue cotton, but she did not care. She left the washroom, dismissing the maids' attempts to comb her hair or other such frivolities. 

As the two servants scurried in the washroom to drain the tub and clean, she sat at the desk beside the bed.

Taking out a quill and ink, she began to write.