Months ago, when the sheriff was preparing for the German booby's visit, Guy had flung a coin over a gambling table and sneeringly told Marian to "fetch." And now, bringing her a bowl of the sheriff's table scraps, his attitude wasn't much kinder as he sneered, "Food. You should eat."

No question, his feelings toward her had recently changed. Perhaps they'd been changing, ever since his discovery that she had betrayed him as the Nightwatchman. But, no. There was even more to his lack of feeling than that, though he couldn't pinpoint what had caused his heart to grow so cold.

She, tense, determined, and resolved to let nothing stop her this time, ignored the food he'd brought her.

Just as you ignored all the gifts I spent money on, for you. Just as you ignored my heart!

"Guy," she began, pitching her voice low so that the sheriff could not hear, "now that Robin's dead, you are the King's last hope."

Robin? You're not even trying to cover your tongue. You must be really desperate. Good.

"You are a decent man, Guy, and not a killer."

A barb shot through him, but he pushed through it. I have to kill! I have to be strong, to overpower the weak! I was forced into it, when my lands, my inheritance, were ripped from me!

"If you do this, the king will reward you. And...and I will reward you."

Now he grew interested. What could she mean? Intensity still burned hotly, yet her manner grew deathly calm, as if she was preparing to breathe her final breath, laying herself on the altar to be sacrificed.

"What do you suggest?" he asked, his voice as low as hers, not wanting the sheriff to overhear them any more than she did.

Her beautiful, clear blue eyes burned with intensity. She paused a moment, drew a breath, then said, "Kill the sheriff."

Guy put a finger to his lips, then stared down at her, frozen at her suggestion.

"If you save the king," she continued, no longer needing to keep her voice low, for she had to force out her next halting words, "I will willingly give you my hand."

Their eyes held. He tried to search hers, not knowing how to feel.

He'd waited for her for so long, thirsted for her, and now, she was his for the taking. Yet it was a disappointing and hollow victory.

She only offered herself on her conditions...impossible conditions. What was it she had just said? "You are a decent man, Guy, and not a killer." Yet she was asking him to kill!

Killing came easy. It was rewarding, an act that proved his superiority and power over another. And wouldn't it feel good to seize that power, and wield it over Vaisey?

Images of the sheriff's many acts of humiliation toward him, disgusting acts, flooded Guy's mind. Marian's proposal interested him on several levels. And yet, he hated her for proposing it.

Once again, she was trying to be master over him...Marian, a woman! She dared to offer herself, but only on her conditions!

He wouldn't give her an answer. Let her stew, tortured while she waited. It would be nothing compared to the tortures she'd put him through, waiting for her.

Without speaking a word, Guy turned on his heel, leaving Marian alone.

...

It was done. She'd finally made him the offer she felt certain would save the King's life.

"I'm sorry, Robin," she whispered, leaning back to rest on her bed. "I will never stop loving you."

Voices in the street outside her barred window only drew a smattering of her attention. She'd given up listening to them, wishing she'd learned Arabic from Djaq, or even from Robin! But she couldn't quite dismiss the sounds now.

The words, muffled and indistinct, almost seemed to speak her name. Even stronger, the voices sounded all too familiar, especially the second one.

She heard his voice so many times lately...in her dreams, and in her head while awake, that she only shook her head now, dismissing it.

She would not allow herself to lose her mind. She would not accept what she believed she was hearing.

"ROBIN!"

A hushed call, yet it brought Marian to her feet. With pounding heart, she rushed to her window, only to be pulled back by her chains.

Struggling, she stood as close as she could, searching out to see who had spoken in the street. But there was no one there anymore.

"Oh, great, Marian," she said, bitterly, returning to her bed. "Robin's dead."

She had to give up hoping. Hope, bringing nothing but disappointment, was for fools. She needed to grow up, and accept her lot in life.

"You're dreamers, both of you."

"No, Father, I'm not. Not without Robin."

"It's good to dream."

A sob choked her, but she was past crying. "Yes, it is," she thought sadly.

Hope was not all dead, after all. Lovingly, she laid her hands over her belly, as if to cuddle her child.