Strong wind threatened to pull Genevieve from her feet. The tails of the King's coat whipped about her and she did her very best to keep it at her shoulders. Where had this wind come from? Why was it not affecting the King? He slackened and fell to his knees. Genevieve could not see his eyes from the angle she stood, but their light did not escape her. The woman took only a few steps, looking to her future husband's face. She was forced to raise a hand to shield her eyes from the light. Wha-? Genevieve looked between Hector with his stone, and the King several times. She was in a state of shock. What was happening??<br/><br/>With Hector's assistance, Genevieve mounted the horse provided. Her large eyes still looked to Motto. Bouts?<span style="font-style: italic">Bouts??</span>Was the King even human?? Genevieve rode in silence. His words played in her mind over and over again.<span style="font-style: italic">“I ...have less control ….than men..”</span>Had it been a slip of the tongue? A chill ran down Genevieve's spine. If it hadn't been... That stone? What was it?<br/><br/>Still lost in her mind, Genevieve was vaguely aware of approaching the castle. Of servants helping her dismount and lead her by the hand to her chambers where her ladies maids removed her wet clothing and dress her in nightwear. She was placed in a chair and her hair was brushed before her dinner was brought in on a silver worked tray. It had hardly been touched before Genevieve was put to bed, the sun just beginning to set.<br/><br/>Dreams plagued Genevieve. Scenes of dark forestry where she and the King stole an intimate moment alone, his warm brown eyes replaced by the bright blue she had seen. A shadowy figure holding the stone Hector had used on him. They sat upon their thrones, her crown felt so heavy, Genevieve needed both her hands to hold it up. Still the figure stood behind Motto's throne, the stone in its hands, his eyes that cold blue. Their marriage bed, but there was no intimacy here, only fright as Genevieve watched in horror the shadow take hold of the King's throat.<br/><br/>Genevieve woke in a cold sweat, gasping. A hand went to her forehead and Genevieve sighed. It was a dream, that was all. A horrible dream. The large windows let in the moonlight. What time was it? Standing, Genevieve stood before the window, looking at the shadowed hills beyond. Tonight they frightened her.<br/><br/>Unable to sleep, Genevieve put on a silk robe and held it tightly about her and wondered the darkened halls of the castle. Candlelight flickered down the large corridors and Genevieve found herself jumping at shadows frequently. Was she in danger here? Surely not. She had angered the King before and nothing had happened, but how could she be sure. Genevieve mulled the idea in her head while biting her lower lip, her knuckles white as she held her robe together.