"You don't know her plans!" Pritchard retorted as she seethed, their blades crossing. "Neither do I, but she's a more than fair captain, and woman of honor." He understood the anger and fear Marina must be feeling, and he knew she was valid in every word. However, he would not tolerate slander of Conwell, feeling a strong familial bond with the Captain of the Black Dahlia. Marina's sword clattered to the ground, echoing in the stone alleyway.

As he pulled the gun, she thankfully froze, giving him some sort of relief. Hopefully this meant he wouldn't need to pull the trigger. Her dare seethed from her lips, her anger more than evident. He stared her down for a moment or two, his grip on the gun tightening. After several moments of silence, she let her dagger fall, clinking on the stone ground. Pritchard slipped his gun back into his holster, bending to pick up her sword off the ground and lightly stepping onto her dagger, preventing her from grabbing it right away when his weapons were put away. "If she's let you live this long, I'm sure she doesn't intend on killing you." He said after a moment. He let the silence grow between them, finally picking her dagger up off the ground and slipping it into one of his own pockets. He flipped her sword, offering it back to her in a gesture of kindess and trust.

"Come on," He said, his voice soft and patient. "Let's find you some water and a place to clean up." The cut she'd sliced on his arm was still bleeding, stinging slightly from the salt of his sweat. Unbeknowst to both of them, Conwell stood watching, lifting her chin in a satisfied manner before quiely turning away. She'd seen what she needed to see, heard what she needed to hear. She trusted Pritchard to deal with whatever may follow, for he hadn't taken her life when he could have. She was also pleased with Marina, impressed by her resilience and determination to live, regardless of whatever she faced ahead of her. In a sense, the princess was not wrong. Conwell did want to use her to her advantage, but not in the way she probably thought. It was a smart play to turn an enemy into a friend. Better to have a member of the Kingdom amongst the crew. Perhaps it would bode well. She had no interest in killing the royal family or storming the kingdom for revenge of her husband. She did however, want to make some sort of peace with them. What better way to do so than to have the princess on their side?

"There's a motel not too far from here," Judas said, walking in step with Marina. It's small and not the best, but there's a bath and good food." He walked her through the crowded and dimly lit streets, music still playing boisterously from the pubs and people staggering drunk out into the streets, dancing and laughing, some fighting. He could spot of a few their crew members amongst the crowd, still having a jolly time.

It wasn't long before he approached the small motel, walking her in. "Two baths and two meals," He told the man at the desk, dropping several coins into his hand. The clerk nodded, leading them back into a narrow hall with two separate rooms labled as bath houses. Pritchard let her go into one before walking into the other, quickly washing his body free of the sweat, dirt, grime and blood. He had finished before her, waiting outside the door for her until she emerged. He tossed his head silently for her to follow, walking out to a table and taking a seat. The food was brought to them quickly, cooked pork chops with various vegetables and two drinks.