*London, around ten years ago*

The guards in the room drew their swords the moment someone knocked on the door. King Richard, his face haggard and his clothes disheveled, tucked his baby son close to his chest. The infant snuggled in his father's arms, sleeping.

"Your Majesty," a female voice called out from behind the door.

The fear in the King's face subsided—not gone but pushed back for the moment. "Open the door," he ordered. The guards obeyed and an older, solidly-built woman dressed as a high-ranking servant walked into the room followed by two young nobles.

"Richard," the noble lady said. Her brown hair was pulled back in a simple clip, exposing the gentle smattering of freckles across her wide cheekbones. Her brown eyes were warm and concerned and her husband followed, a hand on his knife belt while eyeing the guards in the room. Very few people were allowed near the royals armed, but these two were among that number.

"Nicola, Aiden, thank you for coming," the King said. The baby squirmed in his arms and Richard's face softened. He crooned to the baby boy and bounced him a little in his arms. Then he looked sternly at the guards in the room. "You are dismissed."

The captain stiffened. Richard simply waited for his order to be obeyed. After a beat the captain nodded and the guards filed out of the room. The nobles watched them leave and once the door shut turned back to the King.

"What happened?" Aiden of Locksley asked, his face tight with worry. "Is William all right?"

Richard stroked his son's forehead. "He is for now. This time." Richard looked at his two friends, no longer a King, just a father afraid for his son's life. "They came closer than they ever have before."

The baby's face scrunched and then he started to cry, soft hiccups at first and then steady wails.

"Your Majesty," the older servant said, holding out her arms. Richard looked at her blankly for a moment, then he realized what she was saying and he handed his son to her.

"Thank you, Lucy," he said, rubbing his hands on his pant leg. The nurse took the baby and rocked him expertly until he quieted. She walked away from the nobles to the corner of the room, talking softly.

"I don't know what to do," Richard said. "We've been after them since William was born, and still can't find anything. It feels like it's only a matter of time before they succeed, no matter what we do."

Aiden gripped the hilt of his sword. "We will not give up Richard."

The king looked at his baby boy. "He will never be safe here," he said softly. Nicola and Aiden exchanged worried looks.

"This is the safest place for him," Nicola said, approaching the King and putting her hand on his arm. "Whoever is behind these attempts can't hide forever."

"And we can't be on guard forever," Richard said. "They'll slip past one day and my son…no. I won't let that happen." He drew himself up to full height, reminding his two friends of why he made such a formidable king. "If I'm to hunt these animals down, my son can't be in the lion's den with me."

"And where should he be instead?" Nicola asked.

The King looked between his son and his two friends. His brow creased with worry and sorrow but he felt the pull of the inevitable and he could only resist for so long. "You two are the only other ones I would entrust him to," Richard said. Aiden looked in surprise at his wife, who was frowning slightly. Neither of them said anything.

"Please." A king never begged but he was as close as he would ever get. "I know it is too much to ask, to put yourselves and your son at risk. But I have to ask it anyway."

"Richard," Aiden said slowly, turning over the implications of that plan in his head. "It won't be hard for the man, or men, hunting your son—"

"Or woman," Nicola added.

Aiden inclined his head. "Or woman, hunting your son to guess where he went. Even if we throw off their scent now, eventually they would figure it out and William would be in the same danger. More so. Locksley isn't a fortress Your Majesty."

"But it would buy us some time," Richard countered. "We just need some breathing room until we eliminate the threat."

Aiden noticed Nicola hadn't voiced her thoughts on the matter, and he knew his wife. She would not stay silent this long without a reason. He stepped closer to her, lightly touching the small of her back. "What are you thinking?" he asked.

She looked at him, drawn away from her planning, and leaned slightly back into his touch for a moment. Then she looked at Richard. "Do you want my honest opinion, Your Majesty?"

"You know I do," Richard said.

"I think sending your son away is a mistake. If you keep him here, under your eye, you can draw out the assassins. If you send him away, you make him more of a target and allow the potential assassins to disappear."

"You would use my son as bait?" Richard asked coldly. But Nicola only looked at him with a mixture of sympathy and resolve.

"He is the prince. He will always be a target. At least here you have a modicum of control over the situation."

Richard shook his head and Nicola clasped her hands in front of her. "If you decide you want to pursue this course of action, I do have another idea, but it is drastic." She said, searching his face. Her own eyes were grave. "You have to be certain."

He glanced at Lucy, who was bouncing William in her arms. Every once in a while she looked at three conspirators while William cooed. What he wouldn't give to keep his son that happy every day of his life. "Tell me."

She nodded. "Very well. The only way to keep him truly safe is to make the world believe he is dead."

She was met with silence. Richard clenched and unclenched his hands at his side. "I don't understand," Aiden said, but he looked thoughtful. "How would that help?"

"You were right, dear," she told him. "If Prince William disappears from the castle, it won't take long until they come for us. Even if we weren't harboring the prince, they would think we knew where he was. In fact if he were to hide with anyone, he only presents a tantalizing target. They would know he was alive, away from the castle, vulnerable."

"But if they think they succeeded tonight, the danger goes away. You get the chance to find them without having to worry."

"So my choices are to make the world believe my son his dead, or place him in danger?" Richard asked her, his voice grave. Nicola waited, already guessing where he was going to go. Of course, logically, she thought what he should do. But who is to say she wouldn't act the same way if Robin were always in this kind of danger. "How do you propose accomplishing this plan?" Richard asked.

She glanced at Aiden and he nodded, slipping his hand into hers. "First we convince the castle that William is on the verge of death. Right now, people believe he is sick. We attempt to nurse him back to health for a few days and then announce his death.

"Lucy," Nicola called to the nursemaid. Lucy turned from the window, looking Nicola in the eye. Given their stations, it was a breach in decorum. But Lucy raised royalty and, frankly, Nicola was relieved by strength she saw. She knew they would need it. "This part of the plan depends on you. Would you be willing to become a part of the Locksley household?"

"I will do whatever needs to be done, my lady," Lucy said, bobbing her head.

Nicola nodded and looked back at Richard. "If we are to avoid suspicion, I'm afraid we cannot take a ward. It would be too coincidental. However, no one will think twice if we added to our staff, and if that person just happened to have a young boy with her." She shrugged. "It would have to be fairly innocuous. But something you are skilled in."

"Why can't she keep her position as a governess?" Aiden asked.

Both Lucy and Nicola shook their heads, and Nicola smiled slightly. "It could raise to many suspicions. We already have Delilah looking after Robin, to replace her so suddenly would look strange. Besides, Robin will be too old soon for a governess, he will be learning from you and from the other masters on the land soon enough."

"Lady Locksley is right, my lord." Lucy said. "If I remember correctly your boy is almost ten? I can handle the younger ones but once they reach that age I am not suitable in that role."

"Lucy, what position do you believe you would be best suited for?" Nicola asked.

She thought for a moment, looking thoughtful. "I'm a fair cook, my lady."

"Bartley is needing more help in the kitchens," Aiden said, looking at his wife. "Adding someone there won't be strange. And if she takes that position both Lucy and William can live under our roof, where they will be safe."

"Precisely." Nicola noticed the King's grief-etched face. She placed the hand not held by her husband on the King's cheek, trying to ease some of that pain. "We will look after him, Richard."

Aiden had a fierce look in his eye when he added, "he will be as precious as our own son."

"And when you find and eliminate this threat, you can welcome him home again," she said.

Richard took her hand in his and kissed it. Then he reached out and clasped Aiden's forearm. His voice was rough when he could finally speak. "My dear friends."

"William will know his father," Aiden said. "Until the threat is passed he may not know the king, but we will ensure he knows the man."

Richard cleared his throat and then reached up, slipping a small brown cord off of his neck. A small, women's ring glittered on the end. It was a gold band with a lioness etched in pearl on the surface, and a glimpse of flowing script on the underside. Richard handed it to Lucy. "It was his mother's wedding ring. One of a kind. If necessary, this will resolve any doubts about who my son is."

Aiden and Nicola exchanged looks, wondering at the wisdom of putting another clue as to the boy's identity out in the world. But Lucy slipped the cord over her neck and hid the ring under the collar of her dress. The set of Richard's shoulders told them this wasn't a point they should argue.

"Your Majesty, one more thing," Nicola said. "Do you trust the court physician?"

Richard nodded. "Without reservation."

At that moment, William began to cry again. "Then summon him. We will need him tonight."

"Guards!" Richard bellowed over the baby's cry, becoming a king once again. The door burst open and one of the men stood there, ready to jump to the king's command.

"Bring the physician here. Immediately."

RMRMRMRMRMR

Three days later, the London bells tolled a slow, mournful sound. The news had spread like a dark storm rumbling across the plains. Little Prince William, the sole heir to the throne, had died. Succumbed to fever. Common folk and nobility alike wept for their king and the poor soul of an innocent child, though some tears were more genuine than others.

The King wandered the palace, aimless, while pity and sympathy trailed him like a tattered cloak. How can he stand it? they whispered. To lose one's wife is heartbreak enough, but to also lose one's infant son. The courtiers and palace staff shook their heads. At least he has Aiden of Locksley, some commented. The lord and lady of Locksley, from the small but thriving backwater fief, remained by their King's side. He will need them in this trying time. Others tried to find a cause, a place to put blame, and some found it in the governess that had fled the castle. The one who let the prince fall ill, they hissed with spite. But most knew the fever and death that followed was indiscriminate in its choice of victims. Sometimes there was no one and nothing to blame. Well, then, why did she run? They asked. Grief, they answered.

When the funeral procession finally took place, the crowd in and around Westminster had never been more quiet. Children gripped their parents' hands tighter than usual and looked up with wide, frightened eyes. Even the little ones asked questions in quiet voices. The sea of mourning black and grey stood still, respectful as the casket passed by while the royal family processed after it. Some men and women in the crowd broke down when they saw how truly tiny the wooden box was. No casket should ever be that small, they wept.

But eventually even the King's closest friends had to leave and return to their responsibilities at home. On a clear, sunny day their carriages trundled into the Locksley courtyard. Before they even came to a stop a young boy, all bare feet and grass stains, jumped from his perch in the stables into a pile of hay (despite the scolding he would get from his mother later for such dangerous feats) and sprinted towards the carts, trailing wisps of straw has he went. He bounced on his feet until the carriage doors opened, then he launched himself into the expecting arms of his parents. The young lord chattered on about his adventures while they were away, mentioning that he had met the new cook's charge who wasn't old enough to play yet but as soon as he could he was going to show him all the best hiding spaces.

And back in the cold, lonely towers of the castle of London, King Richard the Lionheart began his hunt.