James had parted company with the young woman in red that he had met. Gather water from the unicorn springs and was returning to his men who waited in the safer regions of the woods when he found...her. His cursed child, as Francesca had called them so long ago. But they weren't they were a bane that his brother Phillip had placed upon his shoulders. One of twelve... eleven if one considered the consort was still alive, ten is you added that poor dear Polly was now truly dead without her head.
Curled under her heavy gown, near the base of a large carniflower in the brush. At first he thought it a carcass or slumbering animal, he was half right on both accounts. His armor felt warm, as Castille got closer with one hand gripping the hilt of his sword intent to behead this she-devil. The sun made the green metal glitter and his other half thirst for blood and the glory of destroying an enemy....
And then young Raphael's words came to mind, and the part of him that was still James latched onto them. Information. Malia had believed knowledge was power, and he believed it too. "Soon" he whispered to his other half to appease the Green Duke's lust for more physical activities. Cutting some of the brambles out of the way, he crouched down by the sleeping creature.
Odd, how she almost looked innocent like this, certainly beautiful in her own way. "Jocasta" he said her name quietly like a one trying to wake a lover. He knew her, James remembered the girls from his realm... actually he remembered all of the twelve. It was part of his burden. She was here because these woods are where they died and were reborn, something like himself.
"Jocasta....where are your sisters, why are you alone?" he shifted his bulk to keep the lowering sun from reflecting off the green metal of his armor and to keep the carniflower at a safe distance.