"Allow me to apologize for my brother," came a voice from behind Marian. She turned and found herself face to face with none other than Prince John. "Sometimes he is loath to forget the finer details of propriety when under pressure like this." If this hadn't been coming from the prince himself, Marian would have thought it to be mockery.

"No, your majesty, the trouble is all mine. I am known to be less than graceful from time to time." She dropped a curtsey, hiding her blushing face behind waves of red curls. Why was he troubling her, and why did he give her such a feeling of unease?

She chanced a glance from behind her hair, noting the cold and calculating look that had spread across his face. It was not the feeling that had been there a moment ago, nor was it the glance of the worthy, caring ruler upon the dais.

"Your majesty?" she inquired. He paused and then a smile slowly spread across his face. She fought to suppress a shiver—it was his smile she disliked most of all.

He took her by the arm and raised her up.

"You need never to curtsey for me lady, the pleasure is mine. Come, let me treat you to a drink or two. Or may I escort you to a seat?"

Marian did not want to be with him any longer than she could possibly help.

"I am not thirsty, nor tired."

"A dance then? I can send for my minstrel."

"Pardon me, majesty, but I would most likely step on your feet." He smiled at her, his smirk turning into a genuine grin.

"You shame yourself lady, no woman of your standing or beauty could possibly injure me with their tiny feet…No dancing then. A stroll?"

"I thank you for your extreme generosity, your grace, but I am not feeling well. Forgive me, but I must beg to return to my father's quarters." She dipped her head.

"Of course, my lady, I would not dream of detaining you if you are feeling ill. Here, let me see you from the hall. It is the least I can do." His touch was a light pressure under her arm. She could not refuse.

With a charming smile on his face and a smirk in his eyes he led her from the room, with the whole court cheering. Marian felt she should be honored to be seen upon the prince's arm, but instead the feeling that settled around her heart was more akin to something else. It felt more like dread.

They entered the semi-darkness of the hallway at a leisurely pace, the prince forcing her stride to match his.

"You bestow upon me a great honor, but I must go, your majesty." Marian apologized and tried remove her arm from his, but he only grasped it tighter.

"My lady, do not make me part from you so soon. Please, honor me with your presence just a while longer." His voice was charming but his eyes were dark. Did she dare refuse a prince?

Her head swam in search for an answer…but then her head swimming was the answer. Holding her breath and allowing her knees to buckle, her vision clouded over as she lost consciousness to the forced faint.

Next thing she knew her ears were ringing smartly as his hand connected with her cheek—SLAP! She bit her lip and drew blood.

They were in another, darker corridor. There were some windows at either side of the hall, but all she could see was the sunlight flooding in. Nothing in the passageway was lending itself to memory. Marian didn't know where she was at all.

"Now you listen to me, my lady. I am Prince John, and I will not be refused. I tried very kindly to court you there in the hall, but you would have none of it. I will not play games anymore and you will not play games with me. Is that clear?"

His grasp on her jawbone was bruising; she couldn't even respond. Forcing her to look him in the face, John read the fear in her eyes. He smiled and pressed her into a standing position against the cold stone wall.

"Oblige me, will you, my lady?" he crooned coldly, and then he bent and hungrily pressed his face to hers.

Inside Marian began to scream.

"John?" another man's voice echoed down the hall, piercing her terror.