"And then," Robin told his sleepy eyed daughter in a tender, caressing voice, tucking her into her cradle, "the beautiful princess punched the evil traitor right in his big, ugly, hawk nose and ran from the altar, her lace wedding veil trailing out behind her, and leaped on the back of the handsome prince's horse, who had ridden to save her, just in the nick of time. Together, they saved the kingdom, got married, had a lovely little princess, and another one on the way, and lived happily ever after. Goodnight, Boo."

"You're funny," Marian teased him, rolling her eyes.

"Glad you liked my story!" he grinned. "The best ones always have an inch of truth, you know."

"I wouldn't have gone to the altar, if you'd been more forthcoming. I wouldn't have even stepped inside the church."

"Better late than never?" he asked, kissing her.

Ellen was already asleep before the kiss ended, yet it was cut short by the sound of horses in the yard, then stomping feet and raised voices downstairs in the hall.

"What's happening?" Marian asked, alarmed.

Not bothering to answer, Robin dashed to their room where he grabbed his bow and quiver before reappearing on the upstairs landing.

"Pickens," Robin called warningly down to King John's Captain, "I assume you didn't ride all the way to Locksley to bully my steward. At least, I hope you didn't." In a kinder, gentler voice, he added, "You're free to go, Thornton, after Pickens apologizes to you."

"Very good, Master," Thornton said.

By this time, Marian had joined her husband on the landing, reminding Robin how much he wanted a lock installed on the outside of their bedchamber, and their window sealed shut.

When no apology came, Robin quickly descended the staircase, resigning himself that Marian was trailing his footsteps.

Standing nose to nose with Pickens, Robin ordered, "Apologize, now! I will not allow my servants bullied."

"I'm sorry," Pickens was forced to say, nearly spitting out the words at the old man who'd so faithfully served Robin's family for so many years.

"Not very civil, Pickens," Robin smirked, angrily. "Say it again, as if you mean it."

"Why have you come?" Marian asked the Captain of the king's soldiers, after signalling to Thornton that he should go.

"Lady Locksley," Pickens replied, bowing. Smitten by the Countess of Huntington's kindness and beauty, Pickens' attitude changed to one of respect, approaching reverence. "Forgive the intrusion. His Majesty commanded us to come to Your Ladyship's home, and retrieve your lord husband."

"My husband is innocent," Marian protested, fearing the worst.

"We are not arresting him, Your Ladyship, merely summoning him, to serve His Majesty."

"Serve him? How?"

"The King was nearly poisoned at dinner tonight. He fears for his life, and commands Locksley's presence, to protect him."

"Wouldn't a food tester serve the king's needs, better than my husband?"

"I do not try to understand His Majesty's orders, Your Ladyship. I seek only to fulfill them."

"Of course, I'll come," Robin spoke, stepping forward. "Give me a moment to say goodnight to my wife, gentlemen."

The soldiers agreed by looking down, giving Robin the opportunity to take Marian's arm and lead her several paces away.

"It's alright," he tried to soothe her, smiling lovingly into her anxious eyes. "I'll stand guard over the king tonight. With any luck, I'll be back in time to kiss you good morning."

"Kiss me goodnight, first," she instructed, which he wholeheartedly obeyed.

"It was Isabella, I'm sure of it," Marian whispered into his ear. "Watch out for her, Robin. If she's so bold as to poison her own husband-"

"Don't worry, my love. Unfortunately, I know all about her boldness. Sorry," he added quickly, when she shot him an indignant look. "I only meant-"

"I know. Goodnight, Robin. Be careful."

"Sleep well, my love."

Another kiss was interrupted by the sound of Pickens deliberately clearing his throat, and Robin took his sword and sword belt from his manservant Thomas, strapped them on, and led the way out of his house, to mount his horse and ride to Nottingham.

King John was the last man he would ever choose to protect, but love and loyalty to his country made Robin willingly accept his duty, and put aside his personal feelings. John was his crowned King, and therefore, Robin owed him his allegiance and protection, no matter how despicable he found the man. Or, for that matter, his queen.

...

Anxiously waiting for Locksley to arrive, the king paced, jumping at any little sound.

Isabella watched her husband with wry amusement, though she hid it well.

"My king," she cooed, "I have no objection to you summoning Locksley. But tell me, I beg you, this doesn't stop the little games we've been planning to play on his wife and child, does it?"

"I almost died, and you speak of games?" The king's face grew purple with rage, and his lips tightened in a hideous, threatening scowl.

"Surely we can still enjoy our little amusement, making Locksley suffer by hurting those he cares about?" Isabella stubbornly persisted.

"Not while he's watching over me, you conniving harridan! I don't want anything to distract him. It could mean my royal demise! And so, if I should hear one word of you plotting to harm the exquisite, lovely Miriam, I will subject you to a punishment that will make whatever you've done to her look like a picnic! Do I make myself clear?"

"Very well, my king," Isabella sneered, bowing and leaving the chamber.

Dismissing her attendants who had followed her from the room, Isabella sought out Annora Fitzhugh, the chancellor's foolish, young wife. It wasn't long before she found her, standing alone on the battlements, staring at the stars.

"Mistress Fitzhugh," Isabella said, feigning welcoming warmth and friendship. "Just the person I wanted to see! Tell me, my dear, why you are so discontent? Isn't love just awful, sometimes?"

"I love no one. Not anymore, Your Majesty," Annora insisted, sniffling.

"Come, I know better! You don't need to lie to me! Don't forget, I once loved him, too, you know!"

"He's...he's just so..."

"Yes, he is, isn't he? Pity he's married to...well, you've seen her. And you, dear Mistress Fitzhugh, used to getting everything you've ever wanted! And you would again, you know, if only she weren't in the picture."

"What are you saying?" Annora asked, frightened.

"Nothing much. I'm certainly not suggesting murder, oh, no! Only...only a mild inconvenience, to punish her for being so cold and proud to you, sweet Annora."

"I would like that," Annora said, rapidly blinking her eyes.

"I thought you might," Isabella said slyly. "Here's what you do."

"Me? I thought...I thought Your Majesty was going to punish Lady Locksley!"

"Oh, I am! But I thought it would be more fun, if we did it together! It won't harm her, only hurt her just the wee, littlest bit. A few drops of this, in her drink, and she'll be sorry she didn't give you the respect due you, as the Chancellor's wife!"

"Your Majesty, I couldn't!"

"No? Even when it's all her fault, that Robin doesn't love you anymore, even though you know your twin souls belong together?"

"I could never poison anyone, Your Majesty!"

"Poison?" Isabella repeated, innocently. "Of course not, my dear! This isn't poison! Just some mild herbs, to loosen her bowels a bit. Come, admit it. We'd both enjoy seeing Lady Locksley humiliated, having to spend hours on the privy! Think how amusing it would be! And no one, I swear, will know our little secret!"

Annora bit her lips, contemplating the queen's words. "It would be satisfying," she agreed. Suddenly, her face flushed with nervous pleasure. "Oh, look!" she cried, staring at Robin as he wove his way through the castle's outer bailey. "There he is!"

"Yes," Isabella echoed, hungrily. "There he is, indeed."