Chapter Thirteen: Explain Yourself

It was a mesmerizing trance Mariella put herself under as she watched the flickering flames of her fireplace, slowly brushing her hair out as she did so. Watching the fire cleared her mind and made her forget about that strange string of events, but only for moments at a time. What had happened? How could things progress from trickling conversation to finding it difficult to breathe, put under a spell by a pair of grey eyes?

A knock on her door interrupted her thoughts. She rose from her spot to answer it. It was Mark, which confused Mariella as to why he would be visiting her room.

"Hello, Mark," she greeted, "Can I help you with something?"

"The Sheriff wants to talk to you," he told her simply.

"Thank you…" Mariella told him with a nod and with that he was off without another word, which she found very strange. Usually he was more sociable than that. This briefness worried Mariella slightly, wondering what could have put him in such a mood. She closed the door again, and went to her vanity to quickly tie up her hair in a loose ponytail and then it was off to the Sheriff's study. Once there she raised her hand to knock, but just before it made contact with the wood, the door handle clicked on the other side and opened to reveal Guy of Gisborne standing in the doorway. "My lord," Mariella briefly greeted, only able to glance at him before quickly darting out of the way.

"My lady," he returned just as rushed as she while taking the opening she'd made to exit down the hallway with a hurried pace. Mariella couldn't help but watch him walk away, finding some sort of comfort that he was feeling just as awkward as she was. Then he was gone in an instant.

"Mariella!" the Sheriff called from inside, "Come here, girl! I called for you ages ago!"

Mariella turned, answering her godfather's beckons. Vasey accepted her inside, closing the door behind her and taking a seat at his desk.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, I did," he confirmed as he settled at his desk, shuffling some pieces of parchment around to tidy it up, "How did your day with Gisborne go?"

"Good…" Mariella answered with a hint of confusion in her eyes as she wondered why Vasey was asking about it. What concern of his was it?

"Good, good," he nodded as he finally looked up at her with a cheery smile on his face, "Was it even better than it would have been with the guards present?"

"My lord?" Mariella asked innocently seeming a little confused.

"You ran from the guards today," he rephrased the question into a statement as he laced his fingers together and placed his elbows on his desk, "Care to explain why?"

"I needed to tire my horse," she defended.

"Did you?" he asked, the smile disappearing from his face as it became apparent that he wouldn't accept that as an excuse, "Then why didn't you return after your horse was nice and worn out?"

"We did not know how."

Vasey's jaw seemed to clench at this response."I'm having a hard time believing that, Mariella, considering that Gisborne could find his way out of a labyrinth so long as he had known the way he had come in," Vasey countered. He was trying very hard to keep his voice even. "Scratch that… Even if he hadn't known which way he had come in he would get out, so I think he would have been able to find the way back through a forest that he knows better than the back of his hand. Now, I will give you one last chance to tell me the truth and it had better be the truth!"

"Fine!" Mariella cried out of fear of Vasey's oncoming anger, "The truth is… I did not want others around while we talked."

"And why was that?"

"It is hard for me to talk to people when I know others listen."

"Well you should have learned to deal with it," Vasey scolded her, "Running off into the forest away from your designated guard was not very lady-like of you."

"I am sorry…" she almost whimpered, "I am not knowing what else to say."

"Just say that you won't do it again," Vasey insisted as his temper began to boil down back into a controlled clenched jaw.

"Fine," she agreed, "I won't."

"Good," he nodded as he stood from his seat and went over to a chest, "Now, I did get you a gift… but I'm not sure if I should give it to you now." With that he held up a small metal box. "Do you think you deserve it?"

Mariella tried to choose her words wisely before she spoke. She had Vasey's attitude balanced very well at this point and the slightest insolence could tip the scale in the wrong direction. "It is not my choice," she answered, acting as if she was struggling to get the English words out, "Now, it is yours to give."

"Well, I'm not sure how much I'd want it," Vasey pointed out as he held out the gift to his ward. When she did not take it, he opened it himself to show a silver, ellipsoidal locket. "I have nothing to match it, after all," he went on.

Mariella's hand floated towards it, an elegant finger caressing its engraved surface. The metal was dull and tarnishing, but that made its value no less in her eyes. "Uncle Vasey…" she breathed, "I do not know what to say."

"Your silence says it all, my dear," he smiled as he removed the locket from its container and undid the chain's latch, "You deserve it."

"Thank you…" she said as he crossed behind her and lifted the necklace over her head to help her put it on.

"There we are. Let's see it!" He placed his hands on her shoulders and began to turn her around as she took her hair from under the chain. "Good girl," he smiled, "Now, remember to behave yourself. You can think of that as a little reminder to do so. You may go now."

So, Mariella nodded and turned to go. "Ah, ah, ah!" Vasey called after her, "Manners, young lady. You are to thank me for excusing you with a curtsey."

She wasn't quite sure why being told to do this clicked the last piece of the puzzle into place for her, but she was struck with a sudden epiphany. The Sherriff's words quickly soured and turned bittersweet as a ominous shadow crept into the forest green of Mariella's eyes, like a cloud that eliminated all shine, sparkle, and personality that usually resided in them. She dawned her mask once again and dipped into an elegant curtsey. "Yes, my lord," she told him as she came back to a standing position, keeping her darkening eyes on him, "Thank you, my lord." Then she turned on her heel and rushed out of the room as politely as possible.

He had never been like this before. She stopped in her tracks and looked back at the way she had come. Never in her life would she have ever believed that she would walk away from that man with so much gusto. Now here she was, scampering off and clueless as to why she did it . The only hint Mariella had to go on was that she was now inexplicably angered and disappointed with her once near and dear uncle. No… That was not her uncle. That was the Sheriff of Nottingham and Uncle Vasey no more. It was with this depressing discovery that Mariella reached behind her neck, undid the chain's clasp and shot daggers at the trinket with her glare. Every muscle in her arm—in her being—wanted to throw it out the window and yet there was still something that stopped her. This entire time she had seen the signs, but had denied them in hopes that it was unusual behavior, but now she knew. Her Uncle Vasey was gone. He had left her just like everyone else she had ever loved. She lost a cherished uncle to evil, a friend and sister to the chains of marriage, a caring brother to the fight against debt, and a mother, dearly beloved, to disease and oppression. There was no one left to love. She was alone once again.

"So?" His voice made her sit up in bed and gasp. He hadn't made a sound coming in this time!

"Sir Robin…" Mariella groaned as she lied back down, "Don't scare me like that!"

"My apologies, my lady," he smiled as he took a seat next to her bed, "I'll try to make more of a raucous the next time I sneak into your room."

Again Mariella let out a sigh, now considering the reason why he was here. "How did you know to come?"

"I knew it wouldn't take long for a smart girl like you to figure it out," he replied as he folded his hands and leaned forward in the chair that he had found, "Does this mean that you've made a decision?"

She said nothing for a moment, not knowing the exact answer herself. Was she willing to betray the man she had once known and loved simply because he had changed a little? Maybe he hadn't even changed at all! Maybe that same man was still in there somewhere… somewhere… Who else would have given her the necklace? She just needed to wait long enough and the good man she remembered would hopefully resurface again eventually.

"No," she admitted, "I haven't."

"Then I'll come back tomorrow," he nodded.

Mariella let out moan and covered her eyes. "What makes you think I'll have made up my mind?" she questioned.

"That should be enough time to think it over," he judged.

"And if it's not?"

"Tell you what…" he began, "When you've made up your mind, light a candle and put it in your window. That way we won't bother you until you've made a decision."

Mariella couldn't help but have her doubts about this man's judgment, but she simply nodded regardless.

"Good," Robin smiled, "I will see you soon." With that he headed over to window, swiftly taking his exit and finally leaving Mariella to rest at last.