She moves fast and silent, a swifter shadow than he could ever be, dressed in unfamiliar leathers and roughspun wool, but the form that presses up against him is familiar. One hand presses into the center of her back, the other finds the wall to balance himself.

This has been far too close. A single slip-up, a few less mercies from those who helped him, and he could have found himself at the gallows come daybreak.

For now, though, he can close his eyes and give silent thanks to Aslan that an escape was found, and that Marian is here.

He does not wish to pull away, but he does, looking down at her, searching for familiar eyes in a shadowed mask.

"We should retreat to your rooms. It is not safe to stand out here."