"Do you trust him, Gisborne?"

"Not as far as I could throw him," Guy sneered, his words dancing between the flames of candlelight, "But he does seem to know what he's doing – the Earl of Durham seemed quite pleased with his work and the barbican in Norfolk is quite formidable, I hear."

"High praise from you… we shall see if this Nash is worth his weight in salt," Vaisey doubtfully added to their hushed conversation. The men filled the Sherriff's dark office with even darker conversation, "The last building project we had was such a kerfuffle – 'oh this strong room is amazing, oh your treasure's so safe' – fat lot of good that did us! If we are to rid ourselves of this Robin Hood and grow our brotherhood stronger, we must make this castle stronger."

"Agreed," Gisborne muttered as a silver skinned castle guard drew open the heavy wooden door and announced their guest. After great anticipation Nottingham's leader finally saw the most sought-after castle architect and felt immediately underwhelmed; through the door came a man whose stature was only slightly more than that of Vaisey, his large brown eyes and fading hair looking tired. The gentlemen gave their standard evening greetings and immediately got down to business.

"Ah, the infamous George Nash; you certainly cost a pretty penny eh?'

"My Lord Sherriff, you have a lovely township and castle – very easy for me to have gotten in to," the architect quipped back, "but with that pretty penny I will be sure to resolve such issues."

"I have never had a man speak to me that way and expect to be handed accommodation!" Vaisey shouted before morphing in to a sly and foul grin, "You're confident. I like that. Let's just hope you can measure up to the expectations you set, hm? What exactly do you plan to accomplish here?"

"Well, I will have to have a deeper look, of course, but for starters…"

Outside the door Marian's rose-colored skirt dusted away from the conversation with frustration. Her leather clad feet gently danced across stone hallways and steps until she reached the garden, where the sliver of the setting sun burned an orange hue across the plants. She carefully watched as rotations of guards meandered around, her blue eyes tracking their attention as her hands fiddled with a daisy. She sat herself on a cold stone bench and leaned back against the exterior wall. After a deep sigh she turned to face a slit in the wall designed for defending archers to shoot through.

"I have no idea."

"What do you mean you have no idea? Marian, I need to know what's happening in that room!"

"Well if you can find a way to get this architect's plans be my guest, Robin," she hissed in a whisper, "but I can't hear a thing. I really cannot afford to be on Guy's bad side more than I already am, either. I'll let the dust settle a bit and see what I can find out."

"The Sherriff has to be up to something, something big," Robin pondered with his back to the opposite side of the garden wall, "It can't be good… I hate you being in there. I hate you being so far from me."

"Believe me, no one hates my imprisonment here more than I do… but I will be with you again soon enough, my love."

"Thank you. For everything," Robin told her sentimentally. A smile tugged at his lips when, out through the archer's slot, poked a tender white daisy. He reached out to it with a calloused hand, his rough fingers running along the silky petals, and gave the flower a kiss. It was nearly as lovely as his estranged Marian. Robin of Locksley tenderly tucked his prized daisy in to his laced-up vest and melted back in to the wilderness.

Marian bit her lip in anxiety. She felt like a caged animal in this sprawling stone fortress and her uncertainty about the Sherriff's plans definitely didn't assuage her. What could he need an architect for? A new, vicious weapon? Hearty, solid defense? What monstrous threat did Vaisey foresee that could require such extravagant spending? She shuddered at the memory of Nottingham being on the brink of catastrophe when the Sherriff went missing – the way innocent townsfolk screamed, the adrenaline in her veins screeching to run but knowing she had to fight, the clattering of halberds and swords thirsty for blood. What sinister fate sat on the horizon for Nottingham?

"Marian!"

She clutched her hands together and jolted at hearing Gisborne bark her name.

"Sir Guy-"

"It's nearly dark, you shouldn't be outdoors. Get inside," he bitterly ordered and continued on his way; the sour stench of his hatred for her infused every moment they were in the same room. Breaking off her engagement to him may have been freeing in many ways, but it certainly didn't feel like it. The bad blood between them burned the air. Marian bit the inside of her cheeks to restrain any returning quips. I will get to the bottom of whatever you are up to, she mentally vowed, and Robin will see me freed from this. Just you wait, Guy of Gisborne. Your days here are numbered.