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James' arms held to her tight, terrified of forgetting what her hugs felt like. April grinned and patted his shoulder blades yet again to passively let him know the embrace was over. He pulled back and rejoined the cluster of orphans who had encircled their caretaker with thorough joy that she had left Nottingham castle unscathed. Under Vesey's rule this was miraculous.

"How on earth did you convince him to let you go?" one of the juvenile girls, Lucy, asked.

"I bet that Gisborne guy helped her out," Brandon pitched in, "it's good to have friends in high places."

"Oh, I will have to draw him a picture!" Annie burst as she popped across the dining room to get some paints.

"I don't think Sir Guy will be coming round anymore, darling." April informed her; the older kids recognized the gravity of this sentence but the younger children let it glide past their ears. The teenage males stood a bit straighter and folded their arms in defense of April.

"Why is that?" James bit at the air with a hefty attitude, letting his short temper crumble away.

"Yeah, Miss April," Annie trudged back with a canister of red finger paint, "why is that?" her deer brown eyes were scrunched with confusion; they had all started to feel comfortable in the presence of the man in black. The shields were dissolving and trust was in the fetal stages, but none of them were close to Gisborne. None of them, that is, except April.

"Well, sweetheart, he is a busy man. I don't know that he has the time to see us anymore." She let it slide casually. Again the youngsters accepted this and continued on their way. Several of the teenagers were uncomfortable with her cloaked emotions as she pressed through to her private chambers.

For the first time in this day April was free to be concerned with herself and her own needs, and it hit her hard. A battering ram shattered her door after she closed it and broke her heart like a fragile eggshell. She reached up with her right hand and yanked silver drop earrings from the lobe and catapulted them across the room to a skitter on the floor; Gisborne had given them to her last week when she thought he loved her. The jewelry skipped on stone and wound up edging behind a wooden dresser, but April could think of no better place to put them. Out of sight was perfect. She took in a heavy breath and expanded her lungs in the hopes of inhaling serenity, but unfortunately it made no change, she was losing her head. April was sensing a wrath well up inside of her abdomen that threatened to overtake her mind and bring about a string of disgust for Guy and his trespasses against her. Glancing out the window, she noticed the looming shadow in the figure of Kirkslee's Abbey; at the top of the church's silhouette stood a cross. She released a sigh that weighed much more than the intake.

"Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice," she squeezed shut her youthful eyes and escaped to the scriptures she had been raised with, "Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you." Damn and blast it was so uncomfortable to sit still! April wandered to the glass panes to observe the cross but shied away, ashamed of the emotions that were overtaking her. She sat down with her back to the wall and the church. Twenty years of lessons in forgiveness and they had led to nothing; she hated him. She despised what Gisborne did to her. But two minutes after kissing her his lips were on another woman, and zealously. How many others were there? The possible number of mistresses was endless. It was almost some sort of divine punishment or karma, but for what? She had refused Vesey's demands that she spy on him and divulge private information. Wasn't that the moral thing to do? Perhaps it was not the right choice… April smothered herself in silky palms and allowed a few tears to escape before the oldest of the boys made his way softly into her chambers, knocking absent. Hearing James' footsteps she erased all evidence of crying and looked up with a clearly silicone grin. The mask was cheap.

"What really happened?" he posed his question while sliding to repose next to his caregiver, not knowing whether their bond fit closer to a mother and son or sister and brother format. Either way, he would go to the end of the world for her. They rested back against the wall with silence as she shook her head, trying to play off the entire situation as nothing more than a mutual abandonment of the relationship. He wouldn't buy it for a second. James said her name and put an arm around her shoulders, prompting a dam to burst and dragging out all the tears of her soul. April bawled into him with soggy words.

"He loves someone else. He has another woman, or maybe I'm the other woman. I don't know, I just don't know. But he kissed her James, he kissed and loved her and I look a fool!" she continued crying and gasping feverishly for air as the teenager rubbed her spine soothingly.

"He's going to be a sorry man for missing you." James kindly added; he could think of no one with more grace or capacity for devotion.

"He's a miserable and awful man. An awful, awful man and he deserves to be hateful and sad all of the time."

"Hey now, hey," he stopped her dark rant, "Remember Galatians: Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness. Keep watch on yourself, lest you too be tempted."

"James, it doesn't matter." April cut off his biblical reference, stunning him. She was the most religious person in all of Nottingham and in her time of need she was refusing the Holy book? It was clear she had been deeply disturbed by this event. Someone else in the county, however, had it far worse.

The cracking of the whip rang throughout the jail hall as the weapon broke into the sound barrier. The Sherriff raised it up and slammed it back through his victim's flesh for the final blow before throwing it aside, the body of the tool crimson with blood. Vesey stormed over to Gisborne and grabbed his black hair to force his chin up to look at the man who had punished him. The Sherriff saw Guy's body shiver weakly and bead sweat in reaction to the raw gauges in his back from the scourging; the eyes, however, were unchanging. Only vacancy and sadness resided, no pain.

"You do not have a pass to do as you please with my prisoners," he spat to his colleague, "do you understand that, Gisborne?" After the barking he manhandled his skull to nod yes before tossing him aside, as well. Guy was left alone to bleed in solitude but he didn't particularly care. Scourging took every drop of hope and comfort from a man, but what can you take from someone who has nothing? He collected his shirt and solemnly left to return to his chambers. The fiery stings in his flesh were notably distracting, especially while escalating on stairs, but they did not take his mind away for very long. It was numb. He had experienced instances before of severe heartache from his parents, Vesey, and Marian, but time could scab over anything. One sleepless night and torture filled day later, progress was absent. Gisborne was concerned that maybe he had finally become broken. Perhaps he had suffered one to many blows and now his heart was defective; this void could be the shelter he resided in for the rest of his days. Nottingham castle bustled with security detail and cleaning staff but he hardly even saw them. It seemed as though Guy was in a personal sized bubble and beyond its realm all things became fuzzy and dull. Edges were blended and conversations listed on as sounds rather than words, keeping him exiled to a secluded island of pain and confusion. This could be the life he must adjust to forever if he was truly damaged; Gisborne hoped, though, that his life would not last much longer at all. He was far too weary to continue, yet far too coward to end it himself.

Outside of his door waited Marian, wet cloth in hand, worry covering her face as she bit her lip in anxiety. Word had gone viral about Guy's scheduled scourging for his disobedience and she knew there was nowhere else to be but at his aid. After all, she was under his spell. This could be the last measure to draw him to her; had he not just been harmed for loving that other girl? Gisborne approached and gave a mild roll of the eyes at seeing her.

"Leave me be." He requested with clear fatigue.

"I know the Sherriff did not clean your wounds," Marian defended while he opened the wooden door, "and I do not expect you will. They will become infected." She gestured the cloths to him and after a moment received a nod that welcomed her inside. She wasted no time as he sat on the bed to assist the skin that she had just recently become infatuated with. Marian held a tender hand on his shoulder as she swept away drying blood from the borders of the injuries, careful not to press into the crevices of tissue. He wouldn't have cared, or probably even felt it, anyways.

"I am so tired of hurting." He admitted into the quiet environment. A few seconds later, she set down the pink stained fabric and came around the bed to crouch in front of the exhausted warrior.

"I promise I shall not hurt you any more, my dear."

"Marian… I don't know what I want." Guy's deep voice trailed off as he began to look away. She touched his chin.

"You want to be happy, and I want to help." Marian grinned before meeting his lips for a kiss. Company, he thought, was better than nothing.