Marian wandered through the streets of Nottingham, noticing the people on the sides of the streets and in the alleys, looking on at the depleted crowds at the shopping stalls. The morning light was pale and illuminating. The sun highlighted the wounds and the ugly side of the town alongside whatever beauty was left.

Marian came to a stall that was selling spices. She wasn't sure what some of the spices on her list looked like so she paid close attention to the labels. She glanced up and smiled at the woman behind the stall, who was knitting and eyeing her carefully.

"I hear the rosemary is homegrown," a voice spoke at her shoulder. Marian started to smile without realizing it and her heart lifted in her chest.

"Though I believe the thyme is more potent," she said, turning to Robin. He was hooded, but she saw his smile underneath the fabric. His cloak shifted and his arm appeared, holding a daisy.

"I believe the daisies are more beautiful."

Marian rolled her eyes while the woman behind the stall tried to stifle a laugh. "Hardly useful," she replied. She turned and grabbed the thyme and paid the woman, who winked at her. Robin linked arms with her and they continued down the market way. She still had a few items on her list, but she was glad she could make contact with Robin before going back into the castle.

"Are you all right?" he murmured. "We were starting to think you would never come out. If you were one more day late I was going to come in after you."

"I'm fine," she insisted, ducking her head as if he had just told her a compliment. "I found the place where he keeps the collection. I'm hoping to get to it in the next few days."

"Good. The sooner you can get out, the better. And the Sheriff doesn't suspect? What about Gisbourne?"

They stopped at another stall, this one selling eggs. There weren't that many and they were kind of small but they were the only ones available. Marian purchased a dozen for Maggie and kept her voice low. "No, he doesn't suspect." She didn't want to tell him about Maggie's warnings or her strange conversation with the Sheriff. It would only worry him. "I haven't seen Guy, so at least we don't have that concern."

She looked up and noticed one of the Sheriff's soldiers casually perusing the wares from one of the various stalls behind them. Marian frowned, feeling a trickle of apprehension. She could've sword she just saw the same man at the spice stall. She looked down at her basket, as if checking her inventory. Why would they follow her? She was just a kitchen maid, or so they were supposed to think. Was her cover blown?

"I think we're being followed," she whispered. Robin turned her to face him, like he was checking her outfit while really looking over her shoulder.

"Damn," he said. "And he's seen me with you. You can't go back, he'll report—"

"Hush," she interrupted him. Nodding her thanks to the man selling the eggs, who was busy with another customer and only waved at them, she linked her arm with Robin's again and led him down the street. "We just need to make them suspicious of me for the entirely wrong reason."

"What?" he asked.

"What if we make them believe I'm secretly being courted," Marian said. "It could work. That's why you're hood is up, why I haven't mentioned anything. That could be why I left the convent…" she said out loud to herself. They stopped at one of the main crossroads, watching as carts rolled by pulled by tired men and women. Soldiers were thicker here and their follower was speaking with one now, looking in their direction. It wouldn't be long until they came over and Robin was discovered. There was nowhere to run. Once they came close enough to recognize them, they would both be trapped. She needed to think of something, now, or they would be arrested and most likely executed. An idea dawned on her, one impulsive and crazy enough it might just throw the soldiers off of their trail.

"Kiss me," she said.

Robin froze, and he seemed to pale a little. Someone shouted from across the street and a dog's sharp bark cut through the air.

"You want me to…"

"Yes, Robin, kiss me. It's not that horrifying of a concept," Marian snapped. Her stomach clenched a little, not understanding why he was so upset. "Think about it. They'll leave and my cover will be safe. I can get the money and get out."

"I—I don't think it's…" She stared at him while he stammered out some words. She didn't want to think about why it was so startling to him. Marian glanced over her shoulder and saw two of the soldiers making their way through traffic, trying to appear nonchalant and uninterested but their acting didn't pass muster. If she didn't do something now, they were both going to get caught.

"Forget it," she said, churning her brain for other ideas to keep her cover safe and Robin unidentified. "I'll lead them off. Just get out of sight and get out of here. I'll meet you again after my five days are up." She turned her back on him, clutching the basket with her hand and walking to meet the soldiers. A brother, perhaps? She thought. No, I was raised in a convent. I wouldn't know-

Robin's hand snatched her arm and spun her back around. She only had time to meet his eyes for an instant and suddenly his lips were on hers. The edge of his hood brushed her cheek and her breath caught in her throat. Heat raced over her skin and down her arms. At first the kiss was light, a kiss meant for others to see. But then it deepened as he pressed her closer to him. One arm wrapped around her waist and the other hand cradled her neck. She felt electric and free and she craved more of the light inside her that came from his their own accord her arms came up around his neck and pulled him closer to her.

A horse whinnied, shattering the world that had for a moment consisted of only the two of them. They pulled apart and she finally drew a ragged breath. Marian was surprised to see Robin was just as short of breath as she was. She could feel her cheeks burning and, despite the fact the kiss was only for show, she contemplated what it would be like to kiss him again.

Wait, what? She pulled her thoughts up short. She did not want to kiss him again, of course not.

"Do," Robin cleared his throat. "Do you think they'll buy that?"

Marian snatched up the dropped basket, pushing some stray strands of hair back behind her ear. Her hair had been perfectly pinned just a few moments ago. "I would hope so. Are they still coming towards us?"

Robin looked up. "No, they're um…they're smiling. They're both leaving now."

"All right," she said. "We're safe then. I'll see you in two days." Marian turned away from him to collect herself and start walking back to the castle. She tried to ignore the new tangle of emotions she was experiencing. She forced them to the back of her mind and locked them away, now wasn't the time. She just hadn't expected to react that much when she first suggested it. The kiss was only for her cover. Right?

"Marian," Robin said. She stopped once more and looked back at him. "Be careful."

She smiled, trying to play it light. "I always am," she said. Then she ducked her head, donning the servant guise once more, and started making her way back to Nottingham Castle leaving a flustered and very confused outlaw leader behind her.

Marian got back to the castle late, slipping in through one of the service doors and rushing to the kitchen. She dropped the supplies on the table, expecting a sharp rebuke from Maggie, but the cook only grunted at her and then instructed her on which rooms needed cleaning. She didn't even mention the three broken eggs that resulted from the dropped basket. But Marian didn't question it and didn't waste time getting to work. Work would keep her distracted. She went through the castle, avoiding people as much as possible while her mind shuffled through ideas of how to get to the cache of taxes below her feet.

While cleaning that afternoon she passed one of the guards who had been following her. He winked and she blushed, not entirely sure her reaction was faked. The rest of the day she was flustered and it was hard to believe nobody in the castle had caught wind of her morning errands or the little…distraction she had to perform to keep her cover. It felt like her world had shifted and she couldn't quite figure out how, but no one else seemed to realize it.

The sun made its way across the sky, but Marian hardly noticed. She was cleaning the last of the fireplaces in one of the tower rooms, sweeping away the dust and cold ashes, when she heard footsteps on the stairs. She had missed dinner in her rush to catch up with her cleaning, since her shopping trip had cut in to her morning. She rushed to put away her supplies and they clanged against her tin bucket as she threw them in. She stood up, but when she looked towards the door Carver was already there.

"The Sheriff wants you," he said.

A chill of fear ran down her spine. "Now?" she asked. Carver nodded and she realized how completely emotionless he looked. What was he hiding?

"Yes, now," he replied. "You can leave your things. Someone else will come and fetch them."

Alarm bells went off inside her head. No one was ever allowed to leave evidence of their cleaning. She had only been here a few days and already knew that golden rule. Whatever it was must be important. Or very bad.

Marian walked through the castle, mostly empty at this point in the evening. She traversed the length of the hallway alone, Carver leaving her to her own devices now that she had been summoned to the Sheriff once already and knew the way. When she arrived at her destination, she knocked on the door.

"Enter," the Sheriff said. Marian pushed the door open and stepped just inside the threshold. She noticed a large clay jug on the desk and his clothes were slightly disheveled.

"Milord?" Marian asked.

"Shut the door, Holly," he said. His voice had lost significant warmth since her last visit and she closed the door with some trepidation. It was only her long training that kept her calm and her disguise in place.

"I need you to understand something," he began. "Nottingham belongs to me."

She didn't know what to expect, but it wasn't this. She cleared her throat and spoke, since he seemed to be waiting for her to respond. "Beggin your pardon, milord. I'm not sure I understand."

"Nottingham—and its people—belongs to me. That includes you, Holly," the Sheriff said. His back had been facing her, but now he turned around and took deliberate steps towards her. "You. Belong. To me."

Marian took a step back, unable to respond. He didn't need one. "I've had reports you saw a young man in town today. Care to explain?" he asked.

I don't need to explain anything to you she thought. But she couldn't tell him that, she had to keep up her disguise. He didn't seem to know it was Robin and if she could keep up their ruse then he would be safe. "Sir, he…he was courting me while I was still in the convent," the words stumbled out making her appear frightened. "It's really why I wanted to leave and come here. We've kept it a secret for so long… Please, I don't understand.

He nodded and stepped closer to her. "Well. Let's make something clear. Everyone in this castle is under my control, including you." His hand shot out. Before she could react his fingers were twisted in her hair and he yanked her towards him. Marian let out a cry and stumbled forward. "I don't care if you're married, engaged, courting, or unattached. I have whoever I want, whenever I want. You court with my permission because I, and I alone, am in charge. And you did not get my permission. You went behind my back, Holly. You betrayed me."

Her eyes watered from the pain as he tightened his hold. She could smell the ale on his breath and Marian realized she had made a mistake. She had needed to be a lot more careful and had misjudged the Sheriff's behavior. He craved power and control and anything he thought might threaten his control was something to be dealt with. Especially the women, it seemed, for those who didn't do what he wanted or expected were punished. She knew he was not someone to be trifled with but she hadn't been prepared to deal with someone who could become enraged so quickly. And now she began to understand why Maggie didn't want her here.

He shoved her against the wall and her shoulders ached with the impact. She could feel his breath on her neck as he leaned closer, inches from her face. He traced her cheek gently with his other finger and her stomach started to roll. "I think it's time you learned your lesson."

Panic tightened her throat. She could not let this happen. She would not let this happen. Marian reached up to grab the hand holding her head and then kicked out with all the strength her training had given her, right between his legs. The Sheriff groaned and loosened his hold on her hair. Marian twisted his hand away, yanking out some of her hair in the process, and then whirled, colliding her elbow with his face with as much momentum as possible. She knew she had scored a hit when she heard something crack.

The sheriff staggered back, his hand on his face. Blood dripped between his fingers. "You little bitch," he said. His voice sounded clogged, speaking around the blood from his broken nose. Suddenly his left arm swung around and his fist collided with her face. Marian fell to the ground, her eyes watering and seeing stars. Her head pounded from the impact, but she rolled to the side away from him and scrambled to her feet. She needed a weapon. She needed to defend herself. Her gaze fell to the mug on the Sheriff's desk. Marian stumbled towards it, her head bent like she was recovering from his punch. She could already feel her face start to swell so she didn't have to act too much.

The Sheriff laughed behind her. "You've got spirit, but there is nowhere for you to go," he said. Shifting her body to keep her movements hidden, Marian's hands closed around the mug's handle while he spoke. "I will break you, do not doubt it. Nobody is coming to rescue you." He stepped closer and she could feel his looming presence at her back.

"I—I don't…" she said.

He laughed. "You don't what?"

Marian spun and brought the mug crashing into the side of his head, shattering the cup into little pieces. While he stumbled she grabbed the desk chair and brought that down on his head with all her might. The Sheriff's eyes rolled up and he fell to the floor with a heavy thump, unconscious.

"I don't need anyone to rescue me," she spat.

Marian's hands shook as she stared at him. She was angry and afraid and she wanted to kill him. If she had her bow with her, there was no telling what damage she would do. With a sick certainty Marian knew she was not the first to be assaulted. How many other women had he brought up here? Were any of them able to stop him? She had a guess and it was a horrifying one. But she couldn't kill him, not yet. If she killed him now, there would never be peace. He needed to face trial when the King came back, to be brought to justice and lawfully disgraced. At least that's what Robin and John thought. As much as she hated it, she had to follow their lead.

"It's now or never, Marian," she said to herself. She knelt beside the Sheriff and slipped her hands under his arms. Straining, she dragged his limp body into the bedroom and dumped him there. She took the sheets of the bed and, using a shard from the broken mug to help her, ripped the sheet into strips. She proceeded to tie and gag the Sheriff so when he did wake up it would take him longer to get out of his bonds and come after her. Then she slipped the master ring of keys off of his belt and tucked them into the band of her skirt. Marian closed the door to the bedroom and left.

After checking the hall for guards or servants, Marian walked away with her head down. Somehow her shirt had gotten ripped and she knew she looked disheveled. But that was probably not an unusual occurrence she thought with another surge of anger and fear. Marian made her way to the kitchens, hoping it would be empty at this time of the night. She needed a sack to carry the money she was going to steal and she didn't have time to go back to her own quarters.

Using a hidden servant's stair, Marian fairly ran to the kitchens. With no one to observe her she couldn't afford to waste time walking. She didn't know how long the Sheriff would stay unconscious or how long it would take for him to get untied. She did not want to still be in the castle when he freed himself.

Reaching the end of the staircase, Marian found the door she needed and opened it, peeking her head around the door. She breathed a small sigh of relief at the empty room and then walked in, going to a cupboard where she knew there would be empty burlap sacks from the vegetables carted it last week.

She moved some baskets and snatched the bag off of the floor when a voice spoke behind her. "He got to you, then."

Marian whirled, unused to being surprised. But her nerves were so frayed she didn't even notice Maggie's entrance.

"Almost," she said. Maggie stood at the servants' door with her arms folded, a sad and hopeless expression on her face.

"He always gets to them, sooner or later," she said.

"You knew," Marian said flatly.

Maggie nodded. "Aye."

"And you let it happen." Her voice quivered, betraying the emotions she was trying to keep contained.

Maggie looked sad and older than her years. "I have mouths to feed, back home. I do my job here and they don't starve. It comes with a cost."

Marian felt sick. How could Maggie stand to work in the same place with someone who…but she looked in the older women's eyes and realized the knowledge was weighing on her. What else was she going to do for the people who depended on her?

"Listen," Maggie said. "When you get down there go all the way to the end. On the right is a small door that leads to an empty room. Back left corner, midways up is a loose brick. Turn it."

Marian frowned. "How..?"

"Get going, girl. And a tip? Use the garbage shoot. Drops right outside of the castle into the city. City gates are closed for the night though, you'll have to come up with something else to get all the way out."

"Thank you," Marian said. Maggie nodded once and then left. Marian was on her own once more.

She wasted no time. Foregoing the servant's hallways Marian left the kitchen and came right up into the great hall. Using her Ranger's training and previous night excursions around the castle, she moved smoothly through the shadows to the stair she had seen the soldiers use to put the money away. The torches were cold and unlit so she placed her hand on the wall and felt her way down the stairs, groping for the edge of each step with her toe. Her nerves cried out for her to hurry but she locked her muscles in place. A broken neck from falling would slow her down much more than taking her time.

When she reached the landing sooner than she expected, Marian realized she was in a small enclosed space. Reaching out with both arms she could touch the walls, and the air felt close and dense. Holding her hand out in front of her Marian walked a few paces before she touched wood. She had no trouble finding the handle and key hole in the dark. During one of the early years of her training, Will had blindfolded her for a whole day, forcing her to use her other senses to get around. He had done that off and on until she was almost as comfortable working without her sight as much as she was with it.

Keeping one hand on the keyhole she fumbled with the keys in her skirt. There were quite a few of them so she started from the right and planned to work her way through. Luck was with her for on the third key she heard the click of the lock being undone. Pushing the door open, and keeping the key in her left hand so she would remember which one not to use again, Marian found the right wall and started walking as fast as she could. Sometimes her hand would run over wood, other doors that led to rooms she probably didn't want to know about. She kept her left arm bent in front of her. When she bumped into a wall that signaled the end of the corridor she banged her nose on her forearm, wincing at the pain from her blackened eye.

She repeated the unlocking process, this time going through five keys before finding the right one. She silently cursed the time it was taking but she refused to leave here empty handed. If she couldn't kill the Sheriff she was going to take one of the things he loved the most—his money.

Marian stepped into the room and felt the stone under her feet shift. She dropped to the ground on instinct, feeling the air of a passing arrow across the top of her head. She heard a clatter as it hit the wall behind her and fell to the ground. Marian inched her way over to the left wall, staying low. She stayed there for a moments, listening to her heart pound away in her ears. She muttered some choice swear words she learned from the Skandians, mixed in with those she learned from Robin's men, to tell the empty room exactly what she thought of its traps.

It was difficult to get going. She allowed herself a few more moments to breathe. Then she clenched her fists. "I'm not leaving," she said, ordering her body to move. After years of training it to obey her, she moved, testing every step as she did so. Her fingers brushed the stone wall on her left, every sense tuned so high she felt she would snap at any moment from the strain. When she reached the corner without another incident her skin crawled with apprehension rather than relief. She started pushing stones from the bottom up. Her heart was sinking as she moved farther and farther up the wall until, finally, one of them moved under her touch. Using more force, she pushed it. There was a scraping noise to her right and she ran her hands along the back wall. When she felt empty space, Marian realized the stone opened another door. The air was thicker in here, more stale, and her mind painted a picture that resembled an alcove more than a room.

She tested the floor in front of her and when it didn't move she walked more confidently into the open space. Marian strode forward and extended her arms. Suddenly pain burst in her foot and she yelped. What was that? She thought. I didn't touch anything. Lowering her arms she realized she had run into a sort of stone table that only reached to her waist. Running her hands along the cool, smooth stone top her fingers brushed the rough surface of carved wood. "Hello, sweetie," she murmured. She found the box. The master box, it seemed like. Picking it up Marian felt the bands of iron holding it together, the shift of weight and clink of coins that told her it was definitely full. But her grim triumph turned to ash when she felt the keyhole. The box was locked and this keyhole was much too small for any of the keys she had to work to with.

Marian was running out of time. She could feel it slipping away by the second and the tingle on the back of her neck grew. So she stuffed the box into the sack, wrapped the excess cloth around it to disguise its shape, and left the room. Her muscles quivered, wanting to run, but she took her time and used the same path she had when entering. An arrow in the back now would not be good.

She made it to the hallway without incident and she started to feel a little release of tension. Leaving the door open because she wanted the Sheriff to know he had been robbed, she ran down the hallway using the wall as a guide once again. Marian had been so used to the dark that as she neared the entrance to the great hall she was able to make out some of the individual stones in the wall beside her. When she finally made it to the door, Marian closed it and locked it behind her, stuffing the keys into the sack with the money box. She was out, but what worried her was the fact that she could also see the details of the door. She didn't need touch to find the keyhole. This meant it was getting lighter in the castle and closer to dawn, which meant it wouldn't be long until someone discovered the Sheriff. Marian walked up the stairs and skirted around the edge of the room, avoiding the gaze of some of the servants who were cleaning. It was later than she thought, which meant more people would be starting to wake up. She could see the door that led to the kitchen and the garbage shoot, which was her goal. She was almost there.

"Hey, you!"

Marian stopped in her tracks, her heart skipping a beat. She glanced over her shoulder and only her Ranger training kept her from stepping back in shock. The man who had called out was striding towards her, his long legs eating up the distance across the hall quickly. He had come in through the main entrance; she could see the open door, letting in the early morning light. His clothes were travel stained and worn, and his hair was pulled back. The man was scowling, an expression she recognized.

It was Sir Guy.