Yep, short. Next one has lots of it in for you, though. :)

Chapter Twenty-One

The world was blurry before Elizabeth's eyes still, even after Matilda had wrapped John Henry into a blanket and taken him away. Taken him away to another physician, taken him away to God, to the devil himself, anyone who would save him. It had not taken time to make her part from her son-she was eager for him to get help as soon as possible and not be in the way.

She did not understand why Guy was looking at her so silently, strangely, solemnly, nor why his embrace was much tighter than usual-she did not understand why both he and Matilda-who returned very soon, probably having found aid for John-were speaking in hurried whispers.

She did not know how much time passed, before she finally admitted to herself she did understand everything, that her son was dead, never to be woken again.

By that time, the only tears she could have produced were fake and they refused to flow promptly or properly.

Or at all.

For the first time in her life, Lady Elizabeth prayed to be able to cry.

But stubbornly, the one thing she had denied and repulsed for the majority of her life now repulsed and denied her, when she needed it most. A mother's grief was the worst grief-it had always so been said. Tears were supposed to come, tears had a purpose-to wash away the pain, the heavy and sharp layers of pain which had appeared so quickly. Elizabeth begged for her pain not to be meant to stay, for if it was so, she would verily go mad with it. It was too much already, at the moment. She wanted it washed away, she wanted it torn away, anything. So long as it did not remain.

Her fingernails bore deeper into Guy's leather jacket, and she tried to let out a scream, but it was muffled and came out as a dry moan. She could have felt him cradle her, and she could have said he was speaking, but could not have made out the words. This was Guy that was holding her-Guy had always managed to heal every one of her wounds. Now, he was failing to make her feel any easier.

Oh, she wanted...she wanted....

Not to cry anymore...not to die, not anything. She did not know what she wanted. Nothing was clear.

Everything was a blur.

Then, there was an abrupt movement; a jerk, which suddenly had her head thrown backwards and Guy's hands slipping from her back all the way to her palms. Elizabeth thought she was being pulled backwards-she, or Guy. But why would they be trying to take Guy away from her? He had to remain close to her-it had been his son, too. Who was it, trying to take him away?

This forced her, heavily, to blink and clear her vision somewhat. She did not know who was holding her, but the world slowly came back into foucs. In front of her, there was Guy, indeed-held back by two guards.

„Guy." She was clinging to him, and her throat was sore at speaking, „Guy, what is going on? Who are they?"

He looked intently at her, a look she could have read in any other state, any other day, but not today and not like this.

Instead of Guy, one of the men replied, with a curt half-bow.

„Milady, a witness has stepped forward to witness that it had been Sir Guy of Gisborne who had poisoned your son."

Poisoned. Poisoned. So John had been----she'd know that. But not by Guy, she thought as she looked back at him. Never by Guy.

„What are you saying?" She shook her head at the guard incredulously, „The witness...there can't be a witness, it did not happen!"

„Milady." What an annoying person this guard was, „We are under strict orders from above—„

„You are deluded!" Orders from above did not matter. Elizabeth shivered with sheer will. She was not the mistress of Prince John for nothing, „Talk to Prince John. He will not be in agreement with this, I know that!"

„Lady Elizabeth."

Guy's voice finally sounded. He was being official-of course, they were in front of people-and she did not know if the other undertone was panic, warning or a mixture of both.

He was being stupid, too, though. Why was he warning her? Yes, she would use all the influence she had with Prince John in order to save him. No vigilance or carefulness would change her mind about that. She could always pretend she was acting on the behalf of her husband, if anything---

If only I had not made certain Prince John wanted Vaisey out of the way.

„Lady Elizabeth, I appreciate your words...and your belief in my innocence. But I have to be honest."

She nearly burst out laughing.

„Guy, have you lost your mind?", The first name slipped her, but she did not linger on that detail long, „You were right here with me for the entire time!" She spoke quickly, her voice nervous. Guy must have become insane. He could have at least been silent and let them arrest him, waiting for her to smooth out the details of his release with Prince John. Why would he want to be charged with this crime?

The punishment would be death, and she would have to be there to watch it. She would have to watch Guy die, and she would die herself, or go completely mad.

„No. No, never." She said, whether to herself or to anyone else, she did not know. Elizabeth would never let him do such an idiotic thing, whatever his reasons.

„I am guilty of the crime, my lady."

As he said that, curtly and correctly, his hands let go of hers where they had been holding them for all the time.

"No."

If she had thought Guy had not been making her feel any better, she had been terribly wrong. Without his touch, the worst worsened. Not because the loss of John stung more that way. This was solely because of what the loss of Guy would do. So soon, after the loss of John. The son and the father. Her John and her Guy.

And both of them-why? What for?

"Guy...Guy, stop."

He only looked at her blankly, without response.

Shaking her head, she made a step forward, only to be pulled back by(she now saw) Matilda. But no one would hold her back. No one, she would not let even Guy hold her back from stopping this…this…lunacy!

With one, strong movement she disposed of Matilda, rushing towards Guy, whom the now uncertain and confused guards had begun taking away. They had not even turned him properly yet, and she prevented that from happening by grabbing hold of his face, leaning forward.

She was ready to kiss him. She was ready to slap him. She was ready to do anything, in front of all. Anything, to have him tell the truth.

With one, firm hand on her chest, he put a stop to that.

"Elizabeth…"His eyes bore into hers, but she failed to understand anything once more, "I did it. Truly."

When she struggled further, to be closer to him, to hold him and have him hold her as he always had, when they comforted and loved each other-oh, yes, both of them-he responded by pushing her away.

"Let go."

And he began walking away together with his escort.

Elizabeth had no choice. She ran after him.

This was wrong, terribly wrong. This was Guy-Guy, who either loved her and understood her, or argued with her and mocked her. Guy was never secretive, not with her, not since he had told her of his family. Elizabeth would not let this be-she would go to Prince John and she would make certain Guy lived. She could not let him die. Not ever. Not after all the terrible fates life had cruelly brought him. Not because of her. He had to have a happy ending.

This time, however, Matilda was more determined at holding her back.

She held her back when she shouted, she held her back when she screamed that Guy could not have done it because he was John's father, she held her when the tears finally came and she cried, deep into the wee hours of the night.