9th June: Morning quiet

"I agree.....these people should stop and think, our Emperor only wants peace for all of Europe and he gives them a system of law that is much more fair than their own monarchs force on them," Francois had heard from his parents how hidebound traditionalist the Spanish were, must be also true of the Portuguese.

Suddenly he had to smile though, "Like our talking now will change anyone's mind? I guess we can save our breath, mon ami?"

"They don't think. They only see a threat... but you are right. Us talking about it won't make a difference, nor change anybody's mind... If talking to them did not have success... " He shook his head with a faint sigh.

"I hope that we will soon defeat them.." He trusted that it would happen. ".. but lets talk about something else shall we." His eyes were on Seviére, questioning.

But of course, he had no business bringing up the Portuguese what with how badly they had handled the poor young man.

"Oh, yes, of course. I am sorry. Let us talk about maybe better topics? What about your family? Tell me about them," Francois suggested, then tried out a jest, "Any pretty sisters my age?"

"How old are you, Seviére? " Saint-Hilaire asked, amused at the question. He knew that if the boy had known what rank he was addressing in such casual manner, when speaking of his relations, he might not have dared to do it at all. But, at the moment, he did not feel neither offence, nor upset about it.

"Only then I may know whether there is one."

"I am seventeen and yes, I know some say I don't even look that but I assure you it's true," Francois smiled.

"I was only joking around though, please don't be offended, especially if you do have a sister. I assure you, I have been raised a proper gentleman," he wanted the other young man to know that.

"I'm not offended." He answered to calm the boy and have him not think that he was greatly unhappy about what he had said. "I have two sisters." He studied the young lad and asked him in turn. "And yourself? Have you any siblings, any sisters to call your own?"

"Do you write to them?" He asked and chuckled, for the latter was suggested on Seviere's claim to be nothing but a proper gentleman. The word itself possible to be taken in several ways.

"Yes, two sisters. Younger than me. I believe they live to torment me," Francois smiled though as he said that, in truth he missed them terribly.

"I have written a few times but with the whole countryside against us, it is uncertain if the letters ever even got back home. I do know I have received nothing at all from my family," he sighed.

"Sisters usually do." Saint-Hilaire laughed, though he was careful that the laughter did not disturb his injured body too much. "And we always miss them when they are not there to cause us suffering." He tilted his head a bit, listening to him and then he shrugged lightly.

" The post has a hard time traveling when our enemy wishes to intercept as many of our messengers as it possibly can. But.. let us hope that some of the letters do come through or await to be sent so, when... time is right." He remembered the promise the Portuguese woman gave him. 'Write to your family.' She had said. 'Your final letter, to explain to them how you have perished.' Or something along those lines. The gist of it was there. He shuddered. He had been so close to accept the poison, to write it. To have his parents know where he had died and to place his hope on those letters being delivered in the hands of his captor.

"..Ah.." He had been quiet for longer than he had intended to. ".. They'll come.. atleast some of them, and some of them will be returned... I am certain of it." He smiled faintly. "They'll be happy to learn that you live."