Hidden on the other side of an open door, Isabella silenced her breathing as she watched Marian stand undecided beside a table topped by a bowl of apples.

Marian felt happy. Her previous qualms about Robin choosing to fight alongside his king did not bother her as they had on their earlier stay at this convent. She knew he would return to her and their daughters as soon as he paid his respects to the king, alerted him to Isabella's presence, and received Richard's instructions how to best serve him once they returned to England.

Merely thinking the name "Richard" made her smile. Earlier this morning, after having felt their baby kick the night before, Robin had cheerfully suggested they discuss names. Neither admitted it, but both of them were hoping for a boy, and Marian readily agreed to Robin's suggestion they name their baby "Richard" if he was indeed a boy. Robin's delight in her ready acceptance made him seem a boy himself, and he promised her they would name the next one "Edward," to honor her father.

"How many are you planning we have?" she had asked.

"I was thinking we make it an even dozen."

"Locksley!"

She knew he'd been teasing, and she'd found his grin irresistible. "Men!" she had teased back. "You try giving birth, and we'll see how quickly you lower the number. Not to mention, carrying them a full nine months."

His grin had changed to a concerned, tender smile. Taking her in his arms, he asked, "Do you mind so much? You're feeling alright, aren't you?"

"I'm wonderful. It's definitely worth it. But really, two girls and two boys would be ideal, don't you agree?"

A shadow had passed over his face. Marian couldn't have guessed he was remembering Isabella telling him her "dream" of them living together, with "two boys and two girls." But then his smile had quickly returned, radiant as sunlight.

Marian's own smile as she stood beside the bowl of apples now was tender as she thought about Robin. He had warned her not to eat anything unless Isabella tasted the food first, but surely that didn't include apples freshly gathered from the orchard! But was an apple worth the risk? Isabella had poisoned her once before, she remembered, and she hadn't been carrying a child then.

Isabella grew frustrated, watching Marian hesitate. Knowing it wasn't the apples themselves that posed a threat but the poison on the paring knife on the table beside them, Isabella strode from her hiding place, acting surprised to see Marian.

"You may drop your pretense of being surprised," Marian told her. "You knew I was here."

"So, Robin told you we met last night, did he?" Isabella smirked. "Somehow I doubt he told you everything."

Her implication was obvious, but Marian knew it was also obviously a lie. She refused to give it credence by refuting it, but she couldn't stop herself from disgustedly rolling her eyes.

That small facial expression fueled Isabella's jealousy more strongly than any words. Wanting more than ever to harm Robin's "precious wife," Isabella reached across Marian and picked up an apple.

"You know," she said, "Guy can't eat an apple without picturing you." Pleased with Marian's discomfort at her words, she bit into her apple. "Mmm," she said, "juicy. You should try one."

"No, thank you. You knew exactly which apple was safe. For all I know, you might have poisoned the others."

"My, my, such suspicion! I'm a nun now. If you'd like, I'll take a bite of every apple in the bowl, just to prove myself innocent. Or if you'd prefer, pick an apple for me yourself."

"That won't be necessary."

Isabella made a show of enjoying her apple. "As I said," she continued, "Guy can't look at an apple without thinking of you. Once, when he was drunk and miserable, he wept on and on about how you flirted with him, wanting to deliver a basket of apples to some foreign guest of the sheriff's."

"I remember. I only flirted with him to help Robin. I didn't know Guy would...that it would mean so much to him."

"Guy sees an apple and remembers. He also recalls you slicing your hand with a knife, when you were his guest at the sheriff's fair." Isabella hoped this memory would encourage Marian to use the poisoned paring knife and peel an apple.

Marian did not take the bait, but only said, "He must have guessed by now I cut myself on purpose, to hide my identity as..."

"As who? The temptress in the Garden of Eden? You certainly tempted my brother with your..." Isabella laughed maliciously. "With your firm, round 'apples.' "

"I never... You are disgusting. And that was a snake, not a woman. I thought you were a nun. You ought to know your Bible stories."

Isabella flinched, remembering how Allan a Dale had claimed Robin said she "kissed like a snake." How to get Marian to use the paring knife? She needed to change tactics.

"You're right," she said, sounding sorrowful and contrite. "I am a nun. I am sorry. I am trying to repent, but it is difficult, especially when I come across people, such as yourself and your husband, who have hurt me in the past. That is why I came here, to this convent near my mother's village, so I wouldn't meet the people from England who have hurt me!"

"I am sorry, too," Marian said, "if I hurt you. But you mentioning your mother's village reminds me. I know where your mother is. I met her in Aquitaine."

Isabella could not move. Her mother! Was it possible? She had not seen her since she was a child.

"My mother, in Aquitaine?"

"She lives at Court, with a minstrel. She-"

"Still living with the minstrel she ran away with, after all these years? She certainly shows him more devotion than she did her own daughter!"

Isabella was no longer playing a role. Her bitter hurt was evident, and Marian felt truly sorry for her.

"I've watched you with your daughters," Isabella jeered. "You treat them so lovingly! What I would have given for just one such moment of affection from my mother! But no. She did nothing but push me away, lavishing all her affection on Guy!"

Marian could only listen, and offer kind, sympathetic looks. But Isabella only grew angrier.

"A lot of good it did my brother, when she ran away! She left him as well as me! Left us to struggle and fend for ourselves, and worse! She left us at the mercy of our father! She saved herself from his cruelty, not caring all of it would now be directed toward us!"

"It must have been-"

"Shut up! I don't want your sympathy!" Isabella sniffed, then realized she needed to regain control of her emotions and use this to harm this woman she despised. "Forgive me," she said sadly. "You are trying to help me. You are truly a good woman. I once tried to pretend to be like you, for a bad purpose. You know why I did it. I was trying to lure your husband. In my defense, we both believed you dead. But now, I truly would like to be like you, for a good reason. I want to be kind and good, like you."

"I am...we are all flawed, fallen people," Marian gently explained. "But wanting to be good is the first step toward becoming so. If there is anything I can do to help you..."

"Just...stop hating me. Stop believing the worst. I truly am trying to change. I want to be good."

Isabella blinked back pretend tears. Her eyes were dry, but Marian believed she was crying. "Excuse me," Isabella said, then ran off and disappeared through the open door, pretending her emotion too strong to contain. Once through it, she turned, to be able to stand watch again.

Believing her gone, Marian breathed out an unhappy sigh. Feeling sorry for Isabella, she chose an apple from the bowl, then hesitated. There was still a risk of poison, Marian believed, but only a small one. And if she used the paring knife to remove the peel, she believed there would be no risk at all.

Isabella caught her breath as she watched Marian pick up the knife and begin to slice away an apple's peeling. "Yes," her mind gloated. "You're such a kind, loving mother! How loving it will be for you to kill your baby, for just a few bites of apple!"