A visit from minstrels...

At the Window

The rattle of wagons and the calls of workers rang through Marian's window. She should be excited; it was the first entertainment since finding herself a gently held captive. Instead, her breakfast cooled while she applied her indifferent appetite to the banquet to come and her dulled senses to her new wardrobe.

It was not an elaborate show, just a troupe of minstrels bound for grander places, keen to be well fed for the journey. Even so, much of Nottingham town would come to see. Marian had barely ventured from her suite of rooms to see anyone besides her father since the confinement began, and she looked forward to the music.

She was not certain, however, if she was looking forward to her company. Vaisey had made it clear that she was a guest of honor, meaning that her presence was required and he would be nearby at all times.

Which meant Sir Guy would be near at all times.

The thought made her skin feel tight. She sighed and leaned against the stone wall. It was warmer than when her time at the castle began. Spring had thrown off the last evening chills and leaned into the warm embrace of early summer, filling the market to bursting with mild vegetables and tart fruit. Heavy sweetness promised to follow.

Marian shook herself. Not the red gown, it was unseemly for the day time. Brown was too dull for a celebration, and after being inside so much, the green would make her look sickly. She refused to wear anything that covered her from collar to wrist as the day was so fine, leaving the blue and pink gowns.

The pink was lighter, and would complement the season. It would also would make her glow, being so pale a shade of blush as to recall the insides of a newly opened rose.

When the maid came, Marian was ready.

…

Vaisey pulled her into his arms the instant she was down the stairs.

"We have been so worried for you, my dear, haven't we Gisborne? So pale, Lady Marian, why so pale? Could you not muster a costume a bit more… engaging?"

Vaisey laughed at his own wit. "What say you, Gisborne?"

Sir Guy had not moved since she entered the hall.

"Gisborne!"

Guy snapped his mouth shut and straightened. "I am engaged."

Marian raised an eyebrow.

"That is," Guy corrected, "the gown suits you, Lady Marian." He stepped to her side and offered his arm.

Vaisey rolled his eyes. "Well, don't just stand there, I want to hear the music." He marched off to the courtyard, followed by a dozen guards.

The air seemed to return to the room, and Marian took Guy's arm lightly.

"Thank you. I hope the weather holds, as I do not think mud would improve it."

Four guards took formation around them as they strolled behind Vaisey's entourage.

Guy kept his voice low, and Marian leaned to hear. "You look like a pearl."

Marian bit back the first words that came to mind. It was not without cost to Guy to admit his thoughts.

"Thank you." She glanced up and saw that he'd made an effort. "You look… handsome."

He said nothing, but tucked her arm a fraction closer and continued walking.

…

The sounds of strings and flutes bounced luxuriously off the stones, making every note last and blend into the next. Marian could not remember the last performance she'd enjoyed so well.

It did not hurt that she was seated as far from Vaisey as possible. In truth, she could not see his face. It was blocked by Guy, who had minutely adjusted their chairs after Vaisey sat.

He was more subtle than she had given credit for. With a floral arrangement and platter of fruit between them and the sheriff, it was easy to ignore that he was there at all. And yet, once they were seated, Guy had taken her hand under the table and was loath to let it go. Given the tenuous thaw between them, Marian decided against pulling it away.

"Do you like the music?"

Marian leaned closer. "I do."

Guy swallowed hard. "They were set upon in the forest. I chased off the bandits before they could take the instruments. I thought they might amuse you while you, erm…"

"Are held captive?" Marian supplied.

"A guest," Guy said, a touch too loud for how close her ear was. He withdrew his hand and flexed his fingers.

Marian cursed herself. Her sharp tongue would keep cutting if she was not careful.

The minstrels finished a song and the assembled crowd of Nottingham residents broke into polite applause punctuated with loud whistles and shouts of appreciation. A set of dancers retreated behind a screen and a single lute player and singer stepped forward.

Marian gripped the arms of her chair as a cluster of hooded figures wove through the distracted crowd. She glanced over at Guy, busy plucking a stem of grapes free, and knew he had not yet noticed. Not yet.

The day was about to take a different turn.

The lute player strummed a sweet melody and the singer began.

"Come, my Celia, let us prove-"

Averting her eyes carefully from the crowd, Marian leaned nearer to Guy.

"Forgive me. I did not mean to be so harsh."

"While we may, the sports of love-"

Guy leaned stiffly. "You've been forced away from home. I can hardly blame you."

"Time will not be ours forever-"

"You did not command it." Marian looked down, inviting him closer. Anything to keep him from looking out at the courtyard. "I would not quarrel with you."

"I would never confine you, Marian." He leaned closer, his breath catching. "I only want…"

Guy struggled to form words as his eyes stole down to her lips.

"Why should we defer our joys?"

The hooded figures were gone from the crowd.

"I want-" Guy leaned closer, and Marian saw the crowd taking interest.

She reached out and found his hand beneath the table. He clutched it and sat up, realizing how close they were to making a scene.

…

Guy himself cut the choicest pieces of meat from the roast for her, and once nearly forgot to tend to his own meal as they sat together.

He bid her goodnight with a lingering kiss on her hand, followed by a kiss to her palm.

Marian readied for bed, absently tugging a bit of irregular stitching on her nightdress sleeve. As she braided her hair for the night, a lovely sound drifted up to her window.

"Come, my Celia, let us prove-"

For nearly an hour the lute and singer played. Marian drifted to sleep wondering if this game was becoming more or less dangerous to play. It frightened her that she was not sure she cared.