The knight's watch tower

It was hard to say when Mary last saw James a fleeting glance when he came to see their son. She had waited for him every morning and evening hoping that he would come back to her so they at least could be man and wife again. As evening now started to creep up on her once again, she waited, looking over the hills that spread for acres and acres across the land. The days and nights had all rolled into one no new memories had been made with James just a haze.

She looked up to the sky and how the pink was spread across the setting sun causing a marble effect, A lantern and a warmer cloak had been left for Mary should she become even colder than. Still a Queen in name even though she seemed to have fallen from favour it was hard to know exactly what the council wanted from her now.

It had come to pass that the seasons changed, the winter - mild and acquiescent - melted away to the spring. With life once more thriving, James continued to live as he were neither a father nor a husband. The summer was spent in the fields with his kin, hunts across the land, weeks spent away from court in quiet towns. There had been almost constant parties in the palace grounds over the summer and after the ecstasy of the summer, winter soon crept upon the land again - bitter and cold. James had seen Mary and their son - who had finally started to grow - but she now spent her days in Edinburgh, in the newly renovated palace.

James would ride up to Linlithgow and spend afternoons with his son, telling him stories and walking with him amongst the grounds - his childish laughter greater than any noise in the world. James of course loved Mary, still felt the same, but his affections were subconsciously restrained. He would kiss her cheek and call her ‘love', he would buy her gowns from Italy and speak with her at night - but the distance between them remained. At least, they had not argued.

It was sunset by the time he arrived at the palace, his horse charged through the golden fields. He passed a glance to the battlements and saw the gentle figure of Mary, the setting sun like a halo above her head.

"Will you let down the draw bridge, milady?" his voice boomed as he grinned brightly, slightly affected by the ale he had before setting off on his journey, his horse prancing on the spot.