"Do you think that looks good enough?" Sherriff Vaisey spat, his torso shaking as he screamed, "What do you think we're doing here? It's not good enough! Hang it again!" The worker instantly nodded and began to redesign the string of ribbon, its dark color not standing out too well from the stone walls of Nottingham castle. The short leader nervously fidgeted with the chunky falcon ring on his right hand; he had to make a good impression this afternoon.

"My lord," Gisborne caught up to him, "all the guards are in their place. No one gets in, no one gets out. Especially not Hood." Slowly Vaisey nodded as his gray fur coat dusted along the floor behind him. As he began to pick at filthy nails two guards rounded the corner, each with a glowing sharp halberd in hand, flanking none other than Lucy. Her difference in height from the silver skinned pair made her seem even more out of place.

"Lucy, what are you doing here?" Guy caught a lump in his throat, holding tightly to the custom ring he wore signaling the Black Knights.

"You called me here –"

"Ah, no, sorry for the mix up, that was me," Vaisey added himself in with a foul smile, a sapphire in his tooth beaming, "How are you dear? Don't believe we've met."

"You must be the Sherriff," she curtsied as the guards disappeared, "It is such an honor."

"Oh, now, now." Vaisey walked over to her, their stature not so different, and did a circle around the girl.

"My lord…" Gisborne cleared his throat with an obviously unsettled demeanor; his arms folded over his chest with stiff muscles.

"I thought she would be great company for our distinguished guest today, don't you?" The Sherriff slowly ran his fingers through the loose curls of her hair, "You're not the only one with a thing for blondes, you know. Now, my dear, how would you like to escort our friend Prince John around, hm?"

"Prince John," her mouth fell open a bit, "King Richard's brother? Oh, no, sire. That's not for my kind of blood."

"Nonsense, you're marrying good ol' Gisborne, eh? Give yourself some credit." Vaisey ate up the eye roll Guy gave; the man in black slacked his jaw to the side and let out a thick and heavy breath. The Sherriff, he knew, was always up to something. He looked to his fiancée who gave him a meek smile as if asking permission.

"You are not to leave my side today, Lucy. Understand?" he instructed carefully as she giddily nodded.

"Now Gisborne," the Sherriff put a finger in his face before exiting to the courtyard, "Learn to share your toys." As the head of Nottingham departed, Gisborne gently held Lucy by the arm.

"You absolutely must be on your best behavior. There are many important men doing important things here, Lucy, and you cannot be distracting or getting involved, is that clear?"

"Of course, Guy." She warmly answered with excitement dancing in her emerald eyes. The poor little thing had no idea she was being used, and her betrothed did not know what for, either. Due to past experience he was hesitant to trust her; Marian often destroyed anything she touched. Guy had never had an issue with Lucy's obedience before, though, so he hoped it would go rather smoothly. The sound of thick wooden wagon wheels whipping into the castle drew the couple outside to where Vaisey and dozens of guards awaited their prince. The carriage was strewn in white and red ribbons and matching curtains, the drivers in full uniform with swollen pride as they disembarked and opened the door.

With a regal air the redheaded royalty stepped out, a cheeky grin plastered onto his face, jewelry dripping from his body. His confidence preceded him on the steps as he came to shake the Sherriff's hand. Lucy felt herself stunned. The prince, an actual prince, was a mere yard away with all of the charisma and kindness one imagines in such a person. Her heart twitched realizing this was the kind of man she was going to marry; it was nerve-racking to think she was betrothed to a friend of the crown. As the daughter of a blacksmith she felt her stomach gurgle with anxieties, but as a future wife she was so proud of Gisborne's status.

"Oh, Vaisey, how charming it is to come up north and get out of stuffy old London!" John boisterously introduced himself into their company.

"My good man, it's our honor… if only under better circumstances." Vaisey fiddled his fingers. The Prince gave a nod to Gisborne but was clearly drawn rather to his partner; he removed his glove and kissed her hand.

"My, oh my, every time I come this town gets prettier. How are you my dear?"

"Splendid, my lord," she bowed her head as her heart drummed to her sternum, "My name is Lucille Ballard. It is an absolute pleasure to be in your presence, Sire." Lucy looked over to Guy for approval. She had used her best manners and attempted so desperately to be at his standard; a mild relief came to her when Gisborne returned the proud nod of a father.

"Well, let us begin!" John clapped his hands and entered the main hall of the castle where he took his prepared seat at the head of the table. Several others congregated here and took a seat with professional stares on their middle aged faces.

"Before we start, my lord," Vaisey interjected before sitting, "I thought you may want to have some fun." He waved in a chainmail clad guard with a prisoner in tow. The captive was a young man, scrawny in shape, filthy in looks, and broken in spirit. Lucy frowned a bit as all the men lacked a single flinch to the starved state of the accused. He was brought before the semi-circle of nobles and tossed down with his arms tethered by D-shaped handcuffs. She recalled her time in those before and knew just how uncomfortable their digging was.

"This man was found syphoning your money, my lord," Gisborne boomed, "taking cash from the war effort for his own pockets." The prisoner did not dare to look up as chatter softly broke out.

"What should we do with you…" John pondered aloud before turning with a grin, "Lucille, what do you think?"

"Beg your pardon?" Her posture perked up as her fiancé eyed her up and down, praying she would not create a blunder in his image.

"This thief. The crook that makes your hometown dangerous, my sweet. What is the punishment for his crime?"

"Well," Lucy thought silently for a moment and glanced to Gisborne for permission to speak, "Sire, he appears hungry and beaten. I think he has already received fair punishment." Voices broke out but the royalty waved them off, never taking his eyes away from her nervous lips.

"He is a sinner who shamed the crown."

"With all due respect, Sire, we are all sinners before the gates of heaven."

"Yes, well," Vaisey rolled his eyes, "Assume your God doesn't care about him."

"Whether you accept him or not, He is your God too." Lucy blurted out before thinking. She felt a tingle of shame as Guy slapped a cupped hand to the back of her neck and felt him squeeze. She reluctantly looked to him and wished she hadn't; Gisborne was fuming. Not only had his superior flirted with his fiancée in the open, she had then let her tongue run off with fanciful opinions and poked the Sherriff.

"Excuse her, she is but a child. Lucy does not yet know how to hold her tongue and behave like a woman should." Gisborne stung with venomous words. She could feel her cheeks growing to become swelteringly hot, her fingers and toes curling up. Lucy was thoroughly embarrassed at ruining her chance to impress her betrothed's posh company. Her heart ached with offense to what he had just said.

"Why don't you and your God go fetch us some wine like a good girl?" The Sherriff said to her with a snarky glare. Lucy mentioned nothing more before breaking off from the room, leaving Guy to marinate in her shame. Gisborne could see in the smugness of his boss' face that this was the purpose of her visit; Vaisey starved to be praised by Prince John so he had resorted to pressing Guy deeper into the dirt. The leather clad man did not dare confront him, however, he boiled and itched with anger. They were a team, always headed for a common goal, until Vaisey could find a place to worm his leg up. Gisborne simply scoffed and went back to the agendas of the Black Knights. In his state of hostility he did not even bother to think of Lucy, whose small hands were shaking as she cried outside on the veranda.

The blonde pressed herself to a stone column and took in deep breaths through her nose, settling her stomach, sniffing back more worry. She was so stressed out she nearly felt apathetic at times. Wasn't marrying into nobility supposed to solve her problems, not concoct them into some wicked mess? Lucy fiddled with the hem of her sleeve as she collected herself. Oh how she loved Guy of Gisborne – his smile, his wit, his strength. He taught her so much about the world and protected her from everything. Everything except, of course, these scenarios she walked into. Lucy downed herself for being such a silly and petty girl; her skin shivered as she chewed on her tongue. Perhaps she just wasn't good enough for the title of Lady Gisborne. After all, she was nothing more than a barmaid who struggled to survive after her parent's death. There must be hundreds of gorgeous nobles in England he would rather be with… Lucy drew in a deep breath of lilac and early spring from the nearby garden to clear her head. He loved her, this she knew without reservation. Her mind wandered to the afternoon she had let him have her in his bed, how their warm skin touched, how his hands held her hard though his kisses were as light as air. Those moments of privacy were immaculate between them; she could be herself, after all. She yearned for Guy to be as proud of her as she was of him. And yet, at each social occasion she managed to talk her way into trouble. Lucy took in another breath and stuck her chin up to the breeze. She decided to prove herself wrong about it all. She was going to plan a perfect wedding and be a perfect wife, this she swore with an iron dedication that matched the pressed steel of a sword.

With one glance back to the doors she silently vowed to her beloved to never let him down again.