She wondered what year, exactly, Camelot had been in. Given she'd been told it was nothing but a story, Marian was surprised, but pleasantly so. Though it would explain that he was from a time much further back from hers. It took her some time to comprehend, but as she'd already convinced herself that this entire journey was a trip provided by God Himself, she was dealing fairly well.
He had a comforting smile. The rumors about him in his time were either false or exaggerated. Or maybe it was that smile that had won over the Queen and caused a kingdom to turn on its ear. That could be possible, easily enough. The rogue knight of Camelot that he was. Not that she had any room to judge. Her heart had been won by a rogue with his own crooked smile and devil-may-care attitude. Maybe that's why Marian felt so immediately at ease with Lancelot. That and he was the only thing even remotely close to her time in a place filled with things she wouldn't even be able to describe if asked.
"I can tell," she admitted, looking around them. Even the buildings were different, and she hadn't known you could do much other than a few walls and a roof. "There are things here I can't even begin to understand. How times have changed..." Her voice grew a bit wistful, but she knew even if she hadn't died, it wasn't as if she'd have been alive in this far distant century.
But perhaps her children's ancestors would have. And that? That part hurt.