The air was thick and heavy with heat, the breeze swept through the corridors of the castle you called home in Jerusalem, the breeze was cooler in the middle of the night.

You paid no mind to that, how could you? You'd been intercepted while headed to your chamber to join your husband, who'd you thought would be asleep at this time. Your husband, the leper king, King Baldwin IV.

Tiberas had found you walking the hallways, hurriedly telling you that your son had been attacked by his cousin. All the fatigue left your body and panic ensued, the tile floor no longer felt cold on your bare feet as you rushed to the room where everyone was gathered.

Your gaze immediately fell to your son, sitting on a chair far too large for him, his eye was bloodied and the physician that tended to your husband, was stitching up the gash.

Sibylla and Guy de Lusignan were standing by their son, arguing that your son had insulted him, so in return he had lunged for him.

These boys were no older than eight, what on Earth had they been parroting to cause this?

Guy had loudly demanded for you to answer for your son, but soon was levying insults against you and your son.

"Who is he to insult our son, witch?" Guy shouts, disrupting the quiet that washed through the citadel, Sibylla pulled him back as he pushed a finger towards you.

"Do not become hypocritical with me." You seethed, you wanted to lunge at the man yourself, your son would have no eye and he demands answers for a mere insult.

The arguing ensues, Sibylla trying to calm the situation but failing, Guy had invaded your personal space — spitting insults in your face as you stood your ground.

"What is the meaning of this?"

A calm yet powerful voice cuts through the bickering, your gaze moves to find your husband in the doorway, his silver mask catching the candle flames and moonlight.

Whispers shoot through the room, and your eyebrows knit together in concern. You already had an injured son you didn't need your husband potentially hurting himself as well.