"Good night, Guy," Marian said firmly, removing her hand from the crook of his arm and opening her chamber door.
"Marian, I-"
"Good night," she repeated. Unmoved by his wounded expression, she entered her room and closed the door. Eventually, she would have to face him, but not now. All she wanted at this moment was to be alone.
She had never been so glad to see this room. It would never be hers in the way that her bedchamber at Knighton Hall had been, but knowing the fate she had almost met made it seem somehow less dreary, less stifling, almost...cozy. Looking around, she took it all in - the bed, the fireplace, the table - with a newfound appreciation.
As she looked at the table, something caught her eye. A folded slip of parchment that had not been there before.
She knew instinctively who had placed it there, and a brief glance at the handwriting confirmed her instincts. Robin had nearly lost his life today, having been forced to fight his former friend over a vat of boiling pitch, but she knew nothing of how he had come to be in that situation. Perhaps his letter would shed some light on the matter.
My dearest Marian, I fear we will not meet again in this life.
A cold dread grew in the pit of her stomach, and she sensed that he had done something very foolish. He went on to inform her of Winchester's treachery and the gathering of the Black Knights, and then she nearly dropped the letter in shock when he revealed his plan to prevent the signing of the pact.
If England is to live, they must die, and so, I fear, must I.
This was even worse than she had imagined. Throughout the years, she had come to expect rashness from him, but to infiltrate the meeting and attempt to dispatch the traitors single-handedly-and, more than likely, without telling his gang? A chill crept beneath her skin at the thought of Robin becoming an assassin. Why would he choose to kill so many men in cold blood rather than simply allowing the king to dispense justice when -
"Marian?"
The voice made her jump. She looked up to see Guy eyeing her sheepishly. He was carrying the bag she had packed frantically when he told her of Winchester's intentions.
The letter. She had to hide the letter … but how could she do it without rousing his suspicions?
"I wanted to return your things." He looked around awkwardly, then set the bag down on the floor. "Are you all right?"
"Fine," she said. "You startled me, that's all."
"Forgive me."
"You are forgiven."
She hoped he would be satisfied with this reply and leave her in peace, but he asked in a pleading tone, "Am I?"
She sighed, knowing he was no longer asking forgiveness for startling her. His eyes were full of remorse, and she was reminded of his forlorn look when he told her he worked for the Sheriff because he "had nobody." How could this be the same man who had delivered her to Winchester in chains … whom she had seen commit a murder not only with frightening ease but with seeming relish?
"I did not mean for any of this to happen. You must believe me."
"So you did not mean to chain me up like a prisoner and leave me to that…man?"
"I did not want to!" he cried. "I had no choice. The Sheriff was suspicious. If I had let you go-"
There was no need to finish the sentence. If he had let her go, his life would have been in danger. Still, she could not forget the sting of his betrayal so easily.
"Everything is a choice, Guy," she said. "You chose to work for him, and now you must live with the consequences."
He looked at her as if to make one final plea. She was relieved when, after a moment, he seemed to sense that he would receive no forgiveness and nodded. But he did not leave. His gaze drifted toward the table, and she suddenly remembered the letter. She could not let him see it.
"I am grateful that you saved my life," she said quickly.
She was not happy about the circumstances under which he had done so, but it was true nonetheless. As she expected, his gaze was immediately drawn back to her, and there was a sudden spark of hope in his eyes.
"But I do not know if I can trust you again," she added.
As she spoke, she casually brushed the letter into the table drawer. She felt a twinge of sympathy when the hope in his eyes faded; but, fortunately, he didn't seem to have noticed anything amiss.
"I will do whatever it takes to regain your trust," he said.
"Very well," she said. "But please leave now. I am tired."
"Marian..." She tensed, but he only said "Sleep well" before turning to leave.
When the door closed behind him, she quickly got the letter out of the drawer, unfolded it and read its contents once more. She doubted she would sleep well. Even though she no longer had to fear discovery, her anxiety had not abated. Had Robin lost his mind? As soon as she was able, she would have a long talk with the outlaw, and it would not be pleasant for him.
She didn't have to wait long. The next morning, she visited her father, who was immensely relieved to see her, and she was equally relieved to see that his poor heart had not given out with worry. When she returned to her room, a large brown and green blur fell from the ceiling and landed in front of her. She gave a slight gasp, then glared at the outlaw who was smiling at her cheerfully.
"Are you all right?"
There was genuine concern in his voice, but it did nothing to alleviate her frustration.
"Are you?"
Unsurprisingly, Robin failed to detect the sarcasm. His grin became smug as he replied, "Of course! It'd take more than some boiling-hot pitch and a rat with a club to kill me."
Marian rolled her eyes. "Is there something you want, or did you simply come here to gloat?"
Robin clutched his chest in mock pain. "I only came to check up on you." When she glared at him more forcefully, he added, "And…well, I've had a minor setback, so I need your help retrieving the pact."
A minor setback? Marian wanted to scream. Brushing past him, she picked up the letter and held it in front of his face.
"And I suppose this was just a minor setback as well?"
Robin didn't reply, only arched his eyebrows in surprise.
"It seems I've underestimated your foolishness," she continued. "How kind of you to inform me before you went off to assassinate the Black Knights and get yourself killed."
"Marian, I had no choice." Robin's face reddened a little - clearly, he had not been prepared to defend himself. "Winchester betrayed me."
"Were you planning to kill the Sheriff as well?" Marian asked, dreading the answer. He was a fool, but surely he had not forgotten Prince John's pledge - had he?
"I had to stop them," he replied in an infuriatingly calm tone. "And he's their leader."
The horror she had felt when she first read the letter came surging back, tingling sickly inside her chest. As much as the idea disturbed her, she could have accepted the killing of the Black Knights - it was for the king, for England. But the murder of decent men and women, even children?
"Have you forgotten what happens if the Sheriff dies?"
"Of course not! Prince John is a coward. Without the Black Knights, he wouldn't have the nerve to attack Nottingham."
"And you were so certain of that that you were willing to risk the lives of everyone in the city?"A realization struck her, twisting painfully in her gut. "Including mine?"
Robin narrowed his eyes, a corner of his mouth turning up snidely. "Well, I'm sure you would have had your gallant knight to save you. Tell me, did you enjoy it when he whisked you away on his horse?"
"How dare you," Marian snapped. "You cannot simply be happy that I am safe; all you care about is that someone else stole your glory."
The smirk faded, and Robin looked at her contritely. "Marian, that's not true."
"Leave," she said, unrelenting. "If you're so determined to get yourself killed, I won't stop you."
He stared at her dejectedly for a moment, then turned to leave. She watched him go, knowing her words were a lie.
Everything is a choice. That was what she has said to both Robin and Guy. They both seemed determined to make the most idiotic choices possible, and it would serve them right if she simply let them suffer the consequences. She owed them nothing. Yet despite this, she knew she would go on helping Robin. And she would help Guy, too, if she could find a way.