Much had never enjoyed working in his family's mill so much as he did today. To be perfectly honest, he had never enjoyed working in his family's mill until today! It had always been too hot, or too cold, or too damp, or too dry, and just...horrible! But today, with Robin and Marian working alongside him, it was surprisingly fun!
Much was proud to be able to show Robin what to do. At first, Much's father refused to allow Robin to grind the grain on the quern stone, fearful the young noble would get blisters on his hands, but when Robin proudly showed the miller how tough and calloused his hands already were, he acquiesed. But of course, little Marian wasn't allowed to do so, until Robin insisted she have a turn.
It turned out to be a very short turn, for Robin didn't want Marian's hands hurt, but she was pleased to have a try. Mostly, Marian just scooped flour into sacks until her new plum colored gown was coated with flour, or else she held open sacks for the others to scoop flour into, but Robin hauled heavy loads and ground grain as if he worked in the mill every day of his life, and completed every chore with a smile on his face. All the while, he kept Much and Marian entertained with stories of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table.
The hour he had promised the miller lengthened into two, before they realized it was growing late. They had each worked up quite an appetite, and Much's doting mother insisted on treating all three beloved children to loaves of bread, even though the miller worried their fare was too common for their small noble guests.
"Nonsense!" his wife told him. "Hungry growing bellies aren't so fine they won't appreciate something so good and filling as loaves made from our good flour!" She conveniently neglected to mention she often gave the children a bit of bread when they came to visit, for she'd rather go hungry herself than miss the sight of the young future lord and lady enjoying their humble crusts. But then again, such a kind, generous future lord made certain no one went hungry in his village!
...
Malcomb, Earl of Huntington and Lord of Locksley, stood waiting nervously outside his manor house, as Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine and her grand retinue approached on horseback. Where was Robert? Where was his son?
"Your Majesty," Lord Malcomb greeted his sovereign's Queen, bowing respectfully before her as she drew rein before him. "It is truly an honor to welcome you to Locksley. And your children, Prince John and Princess Joan. As I said, Locksley is honored by your royal presence. May I present Sir Edward of Knighton, the Sheriff of Nottingham?"
Sir Edward bowed with reverence before the Queen, who peered down at him from her position on horseback. The Queen immediately dismissed the sheriff as being unworthy of her interest, for she preferred large, rugged, hairy men to gentle, timid ones.
"Mummy," twelve-year-old Prince John whined, "it smells like cows."
"Be quiet, John," Queen Eleanor snapped. In a more friendly voice, she asked, "And where is Robin?"
The Earl glanced nervously about him, hoping his heir would magically materialize. When of course he didn't, Lord Locksley explained, "I cannot believe he is not here to greet Your Majesty and Their Highnesses. My deepest apologies, Your Majesty. My son, I regret to say, has temporarily disappeared. But I assure you, he will be punished."
"Oh, wonderful!" Prince John cooed. "I want to watch!"
"Hush!" the queen ordered her youngest, and least loved child. "Go soft on him, Locksley," she warned. "He is a great favorite of ours. I look forward to hearing his excuses, however."
"Your Majesty is Mercy incarnate," Lord Locksley smiled, gracefully helping her dismount, and leading her and her two youngest children into his manor.
...
"As you know, Huntington," Queen Eleanor told him privately, "I believe in speaking my mind. I am hoping your son and my daughter might find favor in each other's company. I realize you have already made arrangements for his future, but I might be willing to arrange a greater match for him than a mere knight's daughter."
"Your Majesty?" Lord Malcomb was stunned.
"Why else did I bring Princess Joan? John, unfortunately, was thrust upon me. His father the King insisted, when John whined and fussed to join me. That one would do better, were my husband not to cater to his every spoiled whim. It is my belief Henry does it just to goad me. But, to return to more pleasant topics, I see you are surprised by my suggestion."
"Yes, Your Majesty, in truth, I am! The royal princess? Surely you would do better to ally her with a prince."
"You forget, she is our youngest daughter. There are not so many kings with available princes, near enough her age. She is thirteen...high time I secured her future. And she, unlike her younger brother, is a fine child! Lovely, too, do you not agree?"
Lord Malcomb obediantly looked at Princess Joan, sitting sedately on a cushioned chair. The girl was indeed lovely, with tawny hair and bright blue eyes, a smaller, feminine version of her older brother Richard.
Why not? The Earl was thinking, excited by the prospect of Robin marrying into the royal family. His own sister's daughter Constance, after all, was betrothed to Prince Geoffrey, another sibling in the "Devil's Brood," as the children of Henry and Eleanor were styled.
He'd never regretted betrothing his only son and heir to Lord Knighton's only daughter, even though he knew he could have easily secured a better match. The union had been his late wife's desire, and the affection between the two children was remarkably strong. Yet, he'd never expected an opportunity as golden as this to present itself!
Maid Marian was young, and lovely, and stood to inherit all her father's holdings. Knighton would have no difficulty finding her another potential husband.
Lord Locklsey's eyes were glowing when his son, smeared with grime and covered in flour, burst through the door of his home, along with an equally soiled Maid Marian, and bowed on one knee before the Queen of England.