Julia Hopkins
Hours passed without anyone opening the door. The guards had tossed her into the cabin, lacking entirely in the gentle nature of the previous guards who had gently guided the ladies to their room. Henry, despite being the one who ordered the removal, hadn’t so much as appeared in the window.
The difference between the rooms was vast. The room before had been cluttered with random trinkets and furniture. This room was cleaner, more lived in. It had trinkets but they seemed more sentimental. A small rack hung from the wall, covered in simple gold jewelry. A small side room held a large wooden bed, a novelty in Anne's opinion. Clothes hang in the small cut out closet and a box of what Anne assumed were undergarments hid away in the back. This wasn’t a random storage room, it was someone's home and Anne had been tossed into it.
The first few hours were spent exploring the house, digging into every nook and cranny. She avoided the closet box for posterity's sake. The next hour or so had been spent pacing. Anne tore up the room before cleaning it again, which knocked out another hour. She yelled at the guards a little but after no response decided to try and retain some dignity. As the sun set over the row of huts, Anne sat in one of two dining chairs, gorgeous wooden carved pieces, and watched the residents move about.
She heard the boots before the door. Light taps of old boots made their way to the door. Anne heard mumbling and then the door flung open to reveal her captor himself, Henry.
“Bastard.” The word shot out of her mouth before she could stop herself.
Henry gave his signature wide smile. “Easy Spitfire.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why? Seems fitting for you, doesn't it?”
Anne whipped her head to face away from him. “No.” She didn't have to look at him to know he was smirking.
Henry took off his boots with a thud and put on a pair of thin cloth slippers. Anne watched him from the corner of her eye.
“Upset that I made you wait so long?”
“Upset that I didn’t have anything sharp to throw when you walked in.”
Henry spun the chair around. “Aw, don't be like that. Most people don't stay in my quarters as long as you have.”
Anne gave a small smile. “I am certain that most people aren’t interested.”
“Are you most people?”
Anne moved in on Henry's face. She could feel his warm breath and see the rainbow specks of color in his eyes. Seductively, she opened her mouth.
“You scraped the floors.”
Bewildered, Henry stared at her with wide eyes. Anne sat back into the chair.
“When you spun me? You scraped the floors.” She smiled, pleased to have outsmarted him. His face was nothing short of pure surprise.
He snorted, then let out a giggle and eventually it devolved into high-pitched laughter. It took all of Anne's training to hold back her own laughter.
Pulling up the second chair, Henry leaned back. Letting his laughter fade away, he said “That was good. I’ll have to use that sometime.”
“I'm glad I'm so entertaining.”
“In a place like this, I suppose someone has to be light.”
Cold settled in her stomach and climbed up her throat. Anne had forgotten. She was a prisoner, not a friend. It was so easy to fade away with him. She sat up straighter.
“Why am I here?”
Henry reached for an apple from the wicker basket on the dining table. They were very out of season and she wondered where he had gotten it from. “Here in Stonecastle or here in my house?”
“Your home. We’ve already established that you have no idea why the ladies are in Stonecastle besides your own stupidity.”
Henry took a bite, juice running down the corner of his mouth before swiping it with his finger. “You interest me.”
Anne snorted, ladylike manners forgone. “That much is obvious.”
He smiled, lighter than his previous smirk. “You have no ring. No rich man waiting back home for his lovely wife?”
“No man seems to be interested. I’ve been told I’m off-putting.”
“Imagine that.” Henry took another bite. “And it doesn't seem as though no men are interested. I made mine rather clear, I thought.”
“If it's romance you’re seeking, I think you’d be better off marrying a rooster. You can be loud and cocky together.”
He laughed. “Unfortunately for you, I’m not terribly interested in that way.”
“Pity.”
He laughed as he set the half-eaten apple on the table. Cocking his head to the side, he asked “Wanna play a game?”
Anne straightened. “What kind of game?”
“Question game. We trade off.”
“Why?”
“As I said, I'm interested.”
“Fine, I'll go first.”
“You already asked a question, I have to go first.”
“You are insufferable.”
“I know. Where are you from?”
“Edinburgh, south side.”
“I was expecting you’d be from the capitol.”
“Disappointed?”
“If anything, I'm pleased. Your turn.”
The two sat for hours, periodically lighting candles. Their questions ranged across all topics, although both danced around the fact that, logically, Anne was a prisoner. It was quickly beginning to feel as though she was more than a prisoner. Henry laughed at her and his eyes twinkled when she spoke. Eventually, Anne looked out the window.
“Goodness, it's gotten dark!”
Henry tilted his head, a soft smile on his lips. “Guess I should bring you back to the other huh?”
The two shared a wistful glance. “Yes, I suppose so.”
Henry stood up, stretching his limbs. “Let me change first and I’ll walk you back.” He walked to the bedroom and shut the door.
Anne leaned back in the chair, smiling at the ceiling. Everything felt so right. She’d never felt more at home than talking to Henry. The urge to stay in the cabin and ignore the outside world was strong.
‘I can ask to stay,’ She thought.
Standing up, Anne felt a giddy smile bubble onto her lips. She began to push the door open. “Henry I-”
She cut herself off, a smile frozen on her face.
An undressing Henry stood in the middle with tight bindings around his chest that were not unlike the cloth fabric upholding her own chest. Bindings that were loosening for a very interesting view of two particular, rather round, body parts.
The two made eye contact and Anne shut the door with not so much as a thud.