West Gardens

A malicious laughed escaped my mouth as his words came across as rather obnoxious. I turned my back from him; he appeared to thing this was a wicked kind of game. "You think me stupid of course I knew that you wouldn't reciprocate the feelings." I sighed heavily irritated; I started to kicking a stone which lay half dug into the ground. "I am not needed here who knows maybe I shall find an husband. Why do you need me here; is it because I reminded you of freedom; a freedom that you can't have."

He rolled his eyes and took another step away from her, he had neither the appetite nor the desire for quarrels. It seemed both of them had already began to - at least physically - move apart, where once they had been drawn together. She was flighty - that was for certain, he thought. While he had indulged her candour he would not linger while her tongue became sharp and jagged with him. How could one woman change so much, so quickly?

"Whether you wish or not, Isabel," he replied more firmly - speaking to her no longer as a friend, "I am your King and I will not stay to hear you speak thus."

Was she ever his friend, he questioned in silence - keeping his thoughts guarded. Did she resent him so for having the duties of King and the love of a husband. Strange...yet entrancing girl...

"You cannae decided to act like a king when it suits you James. I am not quarreling I am speaking my mind." I saw it as a manipulation on my part to throw that he was a king onto the table so late in his wicked game. Our friendship was crumbling into ruins leaving only the sea; commonly known as tears; to sweep it away as if it never even exsisted between us. "I gave you my mind so freely yet you act as though I drive you patience."

He shrugged and shook his head. For a moment he kept quiet, a breeze whispering through the maze, wrapping around his ankles and combing through her hair, casting her dark tendrils across her pale face. Why, still, was he drawn to her? He felt inexplicably fond of her and yet he found her words callous. She spoke to him as a stranger so why would he not address her as King.

"I have no appetite for this, Isabel," he finally replied after a pause, a sigh coming after his words as he ran his hand through his hair.

"I wish you well," he added sincerely, "Truly I do. Write to me if you wish from England...but I will not linger while you speak so cold - for that is not the person I-" he paused and finally said, "The person I became friends with."

But I did not mean for my words to come across as callous or malicious. Which one of us was going to walk away first as I couldn't and I thought that he would of done too. I found myself to be very calm in this present moment; I felt safely guarded by his presence behind me; we were both still in the moment. The only movements were the wind it was just us standing still as though time itself had found itself lapsed. "I never meant for my feelings to have developed for you it was not in my plans. I am not that type of girl who sits about plotting."

He smiled kindly, "Nor did I ever think you had plotted," he replied sincerely. He was flattered, yet, he had never quarrelled with a girl who had developed a fancy, as they did in that moment. Indeed, he had charmed his way - with no effort - from these situations but Isabel had already proven that she was quite immune to him.

He glanced behind him to the palace and then to her. The sun danced upon the stained glass, blanching the walls and casting rainbows from the glass onto the grounds about, "Do you have a coach for the journey?"

I didn't want to leave him now I never wanted to leave him. "A carriage has been sent for me. I had best let you go." Let him go in a sense that I would have to find a way to be rid of my feelings I had for him.

He smiled - if a little weakly and nodded his head with his subconscious gallantry. He wasn't exactly keen on the idea of her going to England - a barbarous country and whether or not her friend was English, the northern men of that heathen country would not show mercy to a young Scot's girl, "Write me, if you like," he mumbled and glanced about them.

Eventually - if a little hesitantly - James turned on the ball of his heels and walked away. He strode only a few paces over the dewy grass before he paused. He stood for a moment, brushed his beard and walked back to her.

"If you do send word," he said, "Best send it to the garrison, addressed to Rafe MacBay."

He wouldn't explain his alias, for with any luck she would assume it would be diverted to a servant or friend. Indeed, James conducted all his unofficial deeds under the name - favours to friends, or gifts to the penurious monks who taught him so much. Rafe was the name of the monk who had given him counsel during his imprisonment, MacBay a variation of Macbeth - he was rather fond of the name but decided not to explain to Isabel the significance.

My eye's searched his with a certain plead in them. If he didn't want me to go then just say it. He wouldn't say it and on the moment he turned back towards me I wanted to run to him; and beheld securely in his arms. "Rafe as pronounced as Ralph you mean? I don't think I would want that man to receive such intimate details of our letters. All of my letters are signed Isa but you can still call me Isabel if you so wish to."

He smiled to himself, "No," he corrected, "Not Ralph - Rafe. And you can be sure that the seal on your letters shall only ever be broken by me."

He bowed his head once more, "Safe travels, Isabel," he said, hoping and indeed praying earnestly that she would be safe. James then - more determinedly - walked through the maze, not looking back, disappearing behind the shrubs as he let out a deep sigh.

James was still convinced he had heard a knock from outside and so, once he was away from Mary, he made his way down to the gardens. He didn’t bother to properly dress but he did take the time to load his musket before he left his chamber.

As he emerged from the palace he appraised the dark stretch of yard before him. There was a tree stretching near to his window, but no branch could ever cause such a noise - no matter how high the winds had been. Illuminated somewhat by the light from the castle, James could see as far ten yards before him - dimly lit and tinged with a golden hue from the candles standing by the windows. Yet he could still see no soul.

With his hand upon the stock of his weapon he paced further into the night.

"Up here and do not shoot me." I half expected him to open his bedroom window; but who was I kidding; he knew me too well than to let me in his bedroom. This would be fun; I could see him, but he couldn't see me. I suddenly had the urge to shout "hot hot" And when he took a wrong turn I shouted "cold ice cold. You really mustn't want to find me." I hadn't thought this through my shoe that I needed was on the floor. Hopefully James would be happy to see me and not too annoyed that I nearly broke his window.

James recognised the voice immediately. He felt a sense of urgency, a rush to locate exactly where she was. Nearly every day after she had left, he had sat with a pen in hand and tried to compose some sort of letter to send. He had a thousand words in his head and each seemed to disappear when he looked at any piece of parchment. There was no excuse, none except he wanted to see her.

He walked towards the tree, where her voice came from and looked up, “Do you make a habit of climbing trees in the dark?” he asked playfully and noticed her shoe upon the grass ahead. He gathered it into his hand and glanced at it in his hand, small and leather - perfectly sturdy and yet delicate in size. ]

He looked up again tentatively, she would presumably be wearing a dress and he was both intrigued and cautious about what he might see, “Should I come up to you or will I wait down here?” he asked and leaned against the tree, pretending to be casual and careless yet for once feeling in a state of agitated anticipation.

"You know me; I like to make an entrance." Carefully; I swung my legs off the branch placing them down onto the one below me. Like a skilled cat I moved cautiously; not making any sudden movements that could knock me off balance. I would never want to put you at risk besides; I am nearly down all that is missing is my shoe. I swung my shoeless foot over to him; pointing my toes like a ballerina the top insides of my legs stung as pieces of bark had scratched my flesh. I never wore tights such a nuisance to put on every day when time could be spent doing other things. I had missed him a great deal more than I would ever let him know. He wasn't mine to think about such in the ways I did unspoken fantasies of us both together. It was something more than lust unrequited love on my behalf which was why I always came back to him.

He smiled as he watched her descend, gathering her balance upon each branch before descending to the next - taking her time. He watched as her skirts billowed about her ankles with the breeze, wondering if it was a new frock from her husband, and her hair being carried by the wind across her face in a dark whisper. He recalled how he had moved similarly during his earlier years, perhaps with a little less grace. During his imprisonment in his old chambers, now sealed and bricked up, James had crawled out of his window and onto the branch of an oak tree from which he would descend to experience some freedom,, “It has been a while but I’m sure I could manage,” he replied with a smirk.

There was a strange quiet that seemed to descend as she lolled her leg over the branch. It seemed foolish and he almost felt like a boy, but there was something intimate about it. He held her foot in his hand, wondering how it would feel to reach further - beyond her calf. He recalled how she had tip toed around that house in Auchlyne in his shirt. He lingered upon the memory longer than he should and finally slid the shoe back onto her foot, running his thumb across her soft skin and looking into her eyes with a smile, “You’re well?”

At the touch of his warm hand gently touching my cold skin instantly my eyes became a blaze. A little flickering flame that never went out still burned for him. I've had many nights where I longed for him to even just hear his voice or be in his company. I had to remind myself to not push the boundaries too much that I would end up pushing far away from me. It's rather cold can we go somewhere warmer and talk. My poor buttocks had turned ice cold; I needed to be warm and cosy in his arms I dreamed to myself.

"We'll go to my study," he said deeply and immediately took a step back from her, discreetly paying a cursory glance to their surroundings. He had barely noticed the cold and had almost forgotten they were outside, exposed, and somewhere that they may be seen.

All was calm and quiet. Normally sounds might be heard from the great hall or courtiers may take fresh air in the gardens. Yet, all James could hear was the steady hum of the land - the occasional call of the lark, crying of a fox or the sound of the river - not too distant - beating against the swollen banks. For some reason, he was overcome by a calmness which had evaded him for days. Indeed, it was his natural state but to be outside - amongst the wildness of the night and with her - he felt a little more himself.

He paced forward and offered his hands up to her, "Shall you jump or will I bring you down?" he asked, feeling rather awkward. There was something so boyish about him, even amidst his usual ruggedness. He wanted to joke with her as they used to but their separation and the situation with Mary had exasperated his suppressed feelings.

His study such a formal place for discussion and a bit boring. Still; beggars can't be choosers. I rebuked his offer and helped myself down a pain surged through my feet as I landed suddenly. I pulled down my skirts removing bits of the tree and dirt that was either in my hair or on my jacket. His mood had changed as quickly like the weather may be now had been a bad time to return as I did not want to argue with him he was my supposed friend after all. Something was wrong and I felt as though he was nothing but a stranger to me now. "Sure lead the way grumps"

Janet walked the west gardens with her ladies behind her she was thinking of visiting other court. She felt a bit lonely here in Scotland.

Having only just arrived at the Castle, Trytas hadn't had any time to explore, to see what this place had to offer. He had always been the curious, adventurous type & he just knew this place would have countless secrets & mysteries just waiting to be discovered. He'd been in a private meeting with Queen Mary, someone who he was already quite fond of, they seemed to have gotten along quite smoothly. Smiling to himself, he walked through the gardens where a beautiful array of colours surrounded him from the fauna, the sound of trickling water from the fountain soothed the soul & the chirping of the birds was simply the icing on the cake. He stumbled when noticing another walking toward him, a Lady he hadn't yet met (Janet Stewart) "M'lady." he greeted with a polite tone.

"Ambassador."She said with a low curtsy as her ladies did the same. "Welcome back to Scotland." She said softly to the Ambassador.

"Oh, you know who I am? I must say I wasn't expecting to be recognized by face so soon." He admitted, a little thrown but bowed in return respectfully. The chocolate brown of his hues briefly looked her over, so that he would remember her face for future encounters. "This place is really quite beautiful."

"That it is. I saw you come in late at the night I was the one at the window with the light."She said softly to him as she started to walk again. She found him to be very handsome man. She wondered what he thought of her.