Late in the morning on Thursday, the brisk winds and rain continued to fall, producing an air of quietness in the Village. At Nottingham Castle, the three comrades stood guard at the portcullis, pleased to be working together again; although, Adam had been looking forward to a day of leisure.

"Great to be with you lads again, but were we demoted, Luke?" Adam asked, pointedly.

"You're too much sometimes, you know that?" Drake said with a sigh. He shook his head.

"Not as far as I know. The Sheriff seems quite pleased with our work — all of our work." Luke grinned.

"Then… why are we back to manning the portcullis, mate?"

"The Sheriff chose all of us, specifically, to be here. It is his wish for the three of us to be on duty." Luke said.

"Interesting." Adam muttered.

"You don't know, do you?" Drake asked him. He tried to conceal a smirk, then scoffed.

"Uh… know what?" Adam asked.

"God's nightgown, Luke. He really doesn't know!" Drake exclaimed to Luke, incredulously. He looked beside him to Adam. "How have you not heard? Were you holed up in a cave since yesterday afternoon, or what?"

"I was training, then resting in my quarters, mate. What are you referring to?" Adam asked.

"It's nothing, mate. Don't fret about it." Drake said. He winked at Luke.

"Does this have anything to do with the insistence that our armour be polished to a high shine? My breeches are so stiff I can barely move, too." Adam sighed.

"I think he just wants us to look our best." Luke said.

"Suffice to say, you are finally getting your wish." Drake added. He looked down and softly chuckled.

"What? Wait… what wish?" Adam asked, completely bewildered.

"Nothing to worry about. I'm not going to spoil it for you, but you'll like this one." Drake scoffed as he slapped Adam on the back.

As requested, Robert was shown into the Council Quarters by the sentry, during his midday break. He wondered if this had something to do with the shields the Sheriff had asked for?

"You wished to see me?" Robert asked as he walked toward the Sheriff.

"Yes. Come. Be seated." Nottingham said. He indicated the large meeting table.

Robert followed his instruction and seated himself. The Sheriff sat across from him.

"I've been paying attention to you, Wordsworth." Nottingham began.

"Is that so? I figured you would be since you've employed me, and are housing my lady wife and me." Robert scoffed.

"You seem fairly educated." the Sheriff said, ignoring his comment.

"I suppose. I was tutored well into my teens. We all were, including my sister. Beyond that, I'm just… well read." Robert shrugged.

"Yes. You have a good mind, yet you work with your hands."

"I suppose that's true." Robert nodded, wondering where the Sheriff was going with this.

"I'm in need of an Adviser." Nottingham said, simply.

"Right. I don't really have the contacts here to make a recommend — "

"I'm offering the position to you." the Sheriff announced.

"I'm flattered, but I'm kept rather busy in your armoury. You needed a Blacksmith, and… here we are." Robert said with a curious quirk of his brow.

"I want you to do both." he said.

"Excuse me?" Robert asked.

"You will devote two or three days a week, depending on what's going on at the time, to the Advisory position. The rest of the time, you work as my Chief Blacksmith. You will have the same days off, and Stephanus will cover in your stead on the days that you'll be in meetings with me and my men." Nottingham explained.

"Hmm. It sounds like quite a bit to juggle. A challenge. I'm up for a challenge. I accept." Robert nodded.

"Good. Of course, there shall be a wage increase for the added responsibility, as well." Nottingham added.

"Good. Sounds fair." Robert nodded.

Nottingham leaned back in his chair and paused a moment with a soft sigh before continuing.

"We have a matter you need to be prepared for, as my Adviser." the Sheriff said in a more serious tone.

"Oh? What is that? Does this have anything to do with the stylish gowns Rhiannon brought to Isabelle last evening?"

"She did?" Nottingham asked.

"Yes. She mentioned Isabelle would be needing them to wear in the coming days." Robert said with a shrug.

"Indeed. Then, it does relate to that." the Sheriff said.

"Really? How?"

"A distinguished guest, a friend of mine, is expected to arrive here either today or the morrow."

"I see. A nobleman, I gather?" Robert inquired.

"Yes. You could say that… " Nottingham began.

In the guest room of Father Tuttle's home, Sister Isemay was still kept busy tending to her charge, the Mistress named Celest. The maiden was laying on top of the bed covered by a warm blanket, sound asleep. Sister Isemay was growing frustrated. No matter how strictly she followed the healer's recommendations, the maiden was slow to respond.

She approached the bed, holding a bowl of broth, and sat upon the chair beside it.

"Celest?" the Nun called out to her.

Celestria groaned in response and slowly opened her eyes.

"You must try to take some broth, Miss. You haven't ingested anything since yesterday afternoon. No wonder you're so weakened." Sister Isemay sighed.

"Really?" Celestria said as she struggled to keep her eyes open.

"Yes, it's been that long since you've taken anything."

"No. I mean… you think I'm weakened because… I'm refusing food and fluids, not because I was poisoned a day or two ago?"

"A day or two? My child, it has been four days since you were found on the path outside the church. Four days! You'll never get strong if you don't take nourishment." the Nun said, firmly.

"Oh, my. I didn't realize." Celestria said as she slowly sat up.

"Of course not, Celest. You have no sense of time, because you haven't been awake very much at all." Sister Isemay sighed.

"I'm so tired, Sister. I've never been this tired ever in my life." Celestria said with a yawn.

"Understandable, but you must try, Celest. If you don't, the healer shall need to bleed you again." Sister Isemay cautioned her.

"Right. What have you got for me now?" Celestria asked, nodding to the bowl.

"Some tasty vegetable broth, child. There's also some cheese and dates on a plate on the table behind me." the Nun said as she nodded to the table.

"The broth will be fine. I'm too tired to chew, Sister. I feel like I could sleep for days." she said, softly.

"You shall try, Celest, because you have already been sleeping for days as it is." the Nun said, firmly.

"Very well. Hand me the bowl and spoon. I don't need to be fed, Sister. I'm not completely incapable."

"I'm sure. Very well." Sister Isemay relented.

Just then, they were interrupted by a knock on the door. The Nun dutifully went to open it.

"Ah! I see the lass is actually awake now!" the Priest smiled.

"Yes, for now. Don't hold your breath, though. She'll be out like a flame in the wind shortly, to be sure. Do come in, Father." Sister Isemay nodded as she showed him inside.

The Priest walked toward the bed and smiled at the maiden.

"Who are you?" Celestria asked.

"Pleased to finally meet you, Miss. I am Father Tuttle. You might not realize it, but you are staying in my home. I asked Sister Isemay to stay with you to see to your needs. You've been seen by a healer, as well." the white haired Priest said. Despite that, Celestria noticed he had nary a wrinkle.

"I thank you for your kindness, Father. Without it, I would surely be dead right now." Celestria nodded as she held the bowl out to the Nun.

"No." Father Tuttle shook his head. "You haven't finished your broth. Do not stop on my account, Miss. We need to get you well, and Sister Isemay tells me you haven't taken much in the way of nourishment."

"I'm very tired, Father. Dead tired, in fact. I just want to sleep — all of the time." she said as she took a mouthful of the broth.

"Yes, I can imagine. Sister Isemay tells me you were poisoned."

"Yes, Father. That is correct."

"Do you know by which poison, Miss?" he asked.

"No. I just know… he told me he poisoned me, right before everything went black."

"Well, we shall surely purge whatever that poison was from you." the Priest assured her.

"Thank you, Father."

"I have more questions, child, but from the looks of you, I think now is not the time. You finish that broth and try to follow Sister Isemay's directives, won't you? We shall have you up on your feet in no time." Father Tuttle advised her.

"I shall try, Father." Celestria nodded.

The Priest nodded for Sister Isemay to follow him to the door.

"Yes, Father?" she asked, softly.

"Will you be alright with our charge tonight, Sister? I've a meeting to get to after dusk." Father Tuttle announced in a whisper.

"I see. Yes, Father. I'm sure I shall manage. She seems to be doing a bit better today. Though, she says she's still tired." Sister Isemay said, softly.

"Good. I'll probably only be gone for a couple of hours. Three at best."

"That's fine. We will be alright here. Does Fladius know where to find you in the off chance you may be needed?"

"No. But he will sort you out should you need anything in the interim." Father Tuttle said, quietly.

"Very well." the Nun nodded. Then, she went back into the room.

It was mid afternoon when the guest arrived to the castle. The men were standing guard and chatting amongst themselves at the portcullis. Adam was in need of excitement and let that be known to his comrades.

"I must say, no offence, Drake, but… this is boring. How did I stand this for so long?" Adam sighed. He took off his helm a moment and shook out his thick dark auburn hair.

"I don't think you did. You complained incessantly as you're doing now." Drake remarked with a shake of his head.

"Just because you're bored doesn't mean your task isn't important. You'd do well to pay attention to your surroundings more." Luke added.

"Who says I'm not paying attention?" Adam asked.

"Well, you're not paying much attention right now, mate." Drake said. He looked to Luke and nodded to the ornate gilded carriage approaching them.

"Adam. You'd better put your helm back on." Luke said, firmly.

"Damn thing is still giving me a headache." Adam spat.

"Just do it! Then look straight ahead." Drake chided him, quietly. "We have company."

Adam obeyed, then noticed the carriage approaching. The driver was dressed in finely tailored clothes, and the horses were exquisite silver stallions.

"What in the devil?" Adam exclaimed. His jaw began to gape.

Soon, the carriage came to a halt. The coachman looked down to the three men.

"I believe the Sheriff of Nottingham is expecting us." he said.

"Sure. That's what they all say." Adam scoffed.

Drake and Luke shot looks of concern toward each other.

"Who are the us you speak of, anyway?" Adam pressed the coachman before his mates could quietly scold him.

"I beg your pardon?" the coachman exclaimed in annoyance.

A voice from inside the carriage called out just then.

"Now, Bardolph, there's no need to get excited. The man is just doing his job."

The door of the carriage opened. and the diminutive man, with thick dark red hair and a neat beard, dressed in the most exquisite finery emerged from it.

"Good afternoon, Your Highness." Luke greeted him.

"Good day. Awfully wet out here. Are you lads going to raise that portcullis?" he asked.

Adam just stood there, frozen. He was stunned and unable to speak.

"Of course, Your Highness. You best get back inside, out of the cold and rain. We shall open it forthwith." Drake said, nodding to the carriage.

"Your… Highness?" Adam muttered.

"Yes, dear boy. Prince John. Lord of Ireland and Count of Mortain. And you are?" he asked, simply.

"Uh… I am Adam. One in the Sheriff's Black Knights. Forgive me." Adam said as he bowed his head in deference to him.

"I'm in a good mood, so, all is forgiven" the Prince said. "Will one of you be escorting me inside?" he asked, addressing them collectively.

"Yes, Your Highness. I am Luke. The Sheriff has asked me to escort you."

"Of course, he did." Adam remarked quietly to Drake. He scoffed.

Drake gave a knowing smirk.

"Very good. Why don't you lead the way then, lad?" the Prince said. He stepped back into the carriage, and Drake moved the winch lever to raise the portcullis.

After the carriage passed them to enter the grounds of Nottingham Castle, they resumed speaking.

"You know, some warning would have been nice." Adam huffed.

"And ruin the surprise?" Drake teased.

"I made a fool of myself. You two knew he was coming, and said nothing." he pouted.

"Cheer up. You finally got to meet a real dignitary. A Royal, to be sure" Drake chortled.

The raven haired lady was just arriving to the brothel after asking several travellers on the way to Nottingham about the location of it, to no avail; and then inquiring again at the local tavern. She had an ominous feeling come over her a day or two after she had seen the maiden. She tried to put it out of her mind, but her senses became too strong to ignore.

And then, she received word that her uncle in Nottingham had died recently. The missive came after another who was very close to her had only recently died unexpectedly. She was still reeling from that loss when the missive about her uncle arrived. He bequeathed his estate to her as his only living relative. She saw this as a sign that she was being urged toward Nottingham. So, against her better judgement, she prepared for the long journey.

Earlier, she had made a brief stop at the tavern, with enough time to gather the information she needed as it was not seemly for a woman to visit there unaccompanied. She kept her wits about her and needed to ward off some unwanted advances from drunken men who were present. They were boorishly persistent, but when she showed them her dagger on the way back to her horse, they backed off. It also helped that the tall muscled security fellow reined them in. She smirked as she thought of it.

The lady secured her horse and walked the cobblestone path toward the door. She pulled up the hood of her emerald green velvet cloak and knocked.

A woman whom she guessed was around her age, with flaming red hair and garish clothing answered the knock. The attractive red haired lady quirked her brow curiously before speaking.

"I think you might have the wrong residence, uh… Miss?" the woman she assumed was the Madam said.

"Residence, is it? That's interesting. I was told this is the brothel." the comely lady scoffed.

"Right. And by the looks of you, I have nothing you would want." Madam Birghiva said, flatly.

"Actually, I think you do." the lady said as she narrowed her caramel coloured eyes upon her.

"Very well. Come in, then. We shall talk in my office."

The raven haired lady nodded and stepped inside.

The Madam led her down the hall into her office and closed the door.

"Now, what can I do for you, Miss? Let me guess. You wish to hire a consort to test the true love of your paramour." Madam Birghiva remarked and shook her head. "God knows it wouldn't be the first — "

"No. Please! I would engage in no such nonsense." a beat. "No man is worth that level of energy. I am here to collect my niece. I believe she is here."

"Really? And whom would that be? Floria? Gelldred? Aelina, Laudine, Sophronia, or Nesta? Or perhaps — "

"No. Her name is Celestria." the beautiful raven haired lady responded simply, with a sigh.

"I see." Madam Birghiva said. It was then she seated herself at her desk.

"Good. And where is she? Shall I knock on the door of her quarters? Or will you summon her for me, Madam… forgive me. I don't believe you mentioned your name?"

"Madam Birghiva. And you are?"

"Lady Gisela." the woman replied. "Now, if you would just point me in the direction of her quarters, I will spare you the trouble." she said with a forced smile.

"You say you're her aunt?" Madam Birghiva asked, suspiciously.

"Indeed. You don't see a family resemblance?"

"I suppose I do. Your eyes are a bit different, but… yes. I do, now that you mention it. I think."

"Good. Where can I find her? Is she upstairs, Madam Birghiva?"

"No."

"Well, surely she's not outside on the grounds since it's raining, Madam?"

"No. She's not there, either." Madam Birghiva parried.

"Then… where, pray tell, is my niece, Madam?" the lady pressed.

"Well… she hasn't been seen since Sunday, truth be told. I have no idea where she went off to." Madam Birghiva said. She sighed and looked downcast.

"Excuse me? You haven't seen her for four days? And you don't find that concerning?"

"I do."

"Good. So, someone is looking for her, then?"

"We did, but… "

"Has this been reported to your Sheriff, I hope?" the raven haired lady asked, pointedly.

"Well, he's been rather — "

"My Goddess! You haven't reported it, have you?" the stranger demanded, incredulously.

"I have some men searching." Madam Birghiva lied. She was rather stunned with the lady's phrasing. Who speaks of Goddesses?

"Oh, I bet! I can only imagine. Well, this is most unsettling, and disappointing to say the very least, Madam. I must say!" the comely lady exclaimed. She exhaled, sharply.

"We shall continue to look for — " Madam Birghiva began to attempt to smooth things over, but was interrupted.

"Sounds like whatever search effort you initiated has failed my niece — miserably. You sure she's not here?" the lady pressed her.

"Very sure." Madam Birghiva said.

"Hmm. Interesting. Well, point me in the direction of Nottingham Castle, won't you? I should like to speak to the Sheriff about — "

There was a sudden knock at the door. The ladies looked toward it as it opened.

"Madam Birghiva? Gelldred needs some assistance getting rid of Lord Roth — oh!" Floria exclaimed softly, when she noticed the raven haired lady standing in front of the Madam's desk.

"Not now, Floria — " Madam Birghiva started to scold her, but was interrupted.

"Oh, my. Aren't you lovely? Tell me. Do you know my niece, Celestria, perchance?" the lady asked the golden haired maiden before her.

Madam Birghiva shot a look of warning to Floria, unbeknownst to the stranger asking questions. Floria caught it before responding.

"Well, uh… not very well. No. I'm rather new." Floria said.

"Interesting. But you are aware she is missing, I gather?"

"Well… yes."

"Where did she go? Who took her? Do you know, Miss?" the beautiful stranger persisted.

"I do not know." Floria lied. She had a strong sense she shouldn't mention the Sheriff lurking about, constantly questioning the whereabouts of the Mistress.

The beautiful lady with the shiny raven hair regarded both of them suspiciously, and sighed.

"Something funny is going on, and I will get to the bottom of it. Now, one of you shall direct me to your Sheriffs castle at once." she said, firmly. She folded her arms and frowned.

"By the time you get there it will be dusk. He doesn't receive calls from people at that — " Madam Birghiva started to explain, but was interrupted.

"That's going to have to be too bad. I need to find my niece. Now, direct me to the castle at once." the raven haired lady demanded.

"It's not like you could miss it. I mean… it takes up quite a bit of the… Village." Floria let the words trail off softly when she caught the stern look from the Madam.

"Floria!" Madam Birghiva chided her with a sigh.

"Just point me in the direction of this… gargantuan castle, won't you?" the beautiful stranger repeated. She was growing increasingly frustrated, but she was adept at maintaining composure.

The Sheriff was just leaving the Council Quarters when he saw the Scribe scurrying toward him.

"Let me guess. He is here." the Sheriff said.

"Yes, Milord. His carriage has just arrived." the Scribe said.

"Get word to my betrothed. I'd like to introduce them. Tell her to come to the Dining Hall."

"Very well, Milord." he nodded and went on his way.

The Sheriff headed toward the front entrance. He was exiting the doors as the Prince was stepping out of the carriage. Luke then escorted the Prince to the doors.

"Thank you, Luke. You may return to your post." Nottingham said.

Luke nodded, then turned to the Prince with one more bow, then took his leave.

"Your Highness." the Sheriff smiled and walked closer toward him. He bowed in deference to him.

"George, old boy!" the Prince said. He extended his hand and the two greeted each other with a handshake.

"Come inside, old friend. The rain is going to ruin that finely tailored surcoat of yours." Nottingham said.

"Indeed." Prince John nodded.

The Prince instructed his coachman to move the carriage to an area closer to the stables, then headed inside the castle, walking beside the Sheriff.

"You must be thirsty after such a journey, Your Highness. I shall take you to the Dining Hall." Nottingham said as they walked along the large corridor.

"Grand! Is there any… cheap wine?" Prince John scoffed.

"Of course. I always keep it on hand for moments like this. Plus, I knew you were coming to the wedding." the Sheriff grinned.

It was well known amongst those who knew him that Prince John favoured bad wine more than any other spirit. The Sheriff could never quite understand why, but everyone had different tastes.

"Yes, your wedding, George. I never thought I'd see the day." a beat. "Why are you doing it? It's not like you must — as I had to with Isabella." the Prince sighed.

"You shall see very soon, Your Highness. She is quite a lady. When it is right, it is right."

"Oh, my! You're not jesting, are you, old boy? An interesting turn of events, indeed. You haven't changed too much, I hope?"

"Just a little. I think I'm a better leader now, but I haven't gone soft, if that's what you're wondering." Nottingham said with a knowing glance.

"Good to know, old boy. Will we be meeting with any of your men?"

"I can arrange that. Would the morrow be agreeable? I'll introduce you to my best men." Nottingham suggested.

"That will be fine, indeed." the Prince nodded.

"Good. I have a couple of new recruits I'd like you to meet." the Sheriff said as they approached the doors. He opened them and gestured for the Prince to enter.

They seated themselves, and the servants were quick to bring them refreshments. The Sheriff was given a goblet of brandy; and wine, which was placed on reserve specifically for his visits, was served to Prince John.

Within a few moments of them drinking, laughing, and catching up with one another, the sentry announced the arrival of Lady Rhiannon. The Sheriff went to the doors to escort her inside, and Prince John stood beside his chair waiting to greet her.

"Oh, my." Rhiannon whispered. "I wasn't expecting him to be so… short." she said as she took the Sheriff's arm.

"Yes, he is, my lady. What he lacks in stature he makes up for in personality. You shall see." he said, quietly. Then he led her only a few feet away from the Prince.

As she neared closer, it was apparent to Rhiannon that the Prince was about half a foot shorter than her betrothed, yet he was quite a devilishly handsome fellow.

"Well now, you are the one who seems to have captured my friend's heart. I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Milady. Prince John. Lord of Ireland and Count of Mortain. I am charmed." he smiled. The corners of his moustache curled even more as he did so, and his deep green eyes twinkled.

"Likewise, a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness. I am Lady Rhiannon Wordsworth of York." she smiled back with a curtsy.

She normally would have identified herself as coming from Knaresborough in the County of York, but she had the sense he didn't need to know those details.

"Indeed. You just happened to be visiting your betrothed on this day? How fortunate!"

"Yes, I — "

"She has been staying in the castle, Your Highness. Her life was in danger a number of times in the last five months. You have no idea. So, she was brought here where she received the best of care." Nottingham said.

"Oh, come now, old boy. It is just us present. No need for formalities when it is only us. 'Your Highness' gets rather boring, it's so overused." Prince John said with a wave of his hand.

"As you wish, friend." the Sheriff nodded.

"So, you've been domiciled during that time, then?" the Prince pressed them.

"In a manner of speak — " the Sheriff was interrupted.

"You could say that. We've also been betrothed to one another for the entire time, as well, Your Highness. There is nothing clandestine about our arrangement." Rhiannon said, firmly.

"Ha, ha, ha! Flouting your unusual courtship in the face of common piety. Classic move. I love it!" the Prince chuckled as he addressed them both.

"There were extenuating circumstances, Prince John." Nottingham said.

"Oh, come now, Georgie. Do you honestly think I would give a tinker's damn? Even if there were… extenuating circumstances surrounding your little arrangement." he said as he gestured to them both, moving his hand in a circle. "It matters not to me. As long as she makes you happy, then I am pleased for you, old boy." the Prince said as he slapped the Sheriff on the back.

"I certainly endeavour to, Your Highness." Rhiannon said. She looked downcast and sighed.

"Yes, Milady. I can see you do. He's been glowing since he first spoke of you. I wish I could know what that's like." the Prince muttered.

"Forgive me, Your Highness, but… you are married — are you not? Where is she, by the way? Surely, you'll bring her along to the wedding?" Rhiannon asked.

Nottingham sighed.

"Yes. Isabella, Countess of Gloucester is my… lady wife. And no, I didn't even mention the wedding to her. My… marriage is purely a marriage of duty. I shall have a much better time of it on my own." he said.

"I see." Rhiannon nodded.

"Come, Lady Rhiannon. Have a drink with us." the Prince said as he nodded to the table.

"You go ahead. I shall stick with water or juice. It's… rather early in the day for me to be imbibing." she said.

"Very well." he nodded. He resumed his place at the table, as the Sheriff pulled out a chair for his lady.

The Sheriff was taking a seat beside Lady Rhiannon when Jean Louis approached them. The chef bowed in deference to the Prince.

"Bonjour, Your Highness. No doubt you are famished. I do hope you like venison?" Jean Louis asked.

"Indeed. Very much, in fact. I like a good stag hunt, too. Nothing like fresh venison." he winked.

"Indeed." Jean Louis nodded.

"It won't be anything too heavy, will it, Jean Louis?" the Sheriff asked.

"There's a selection you can choose from, mon Seigneur Sheriff. Why?"

"Because, I should like to invite our guest to dine with us this evening." the Sheriff said. He turned back to face the Prince. "What say you, Your Highness? Would you join us this evening? I shall invite Guy and Lady Gisborne, as well as the Captain, and I'd like you to meet my new Adviser and his lady wife, as well."

Rhiannon looked at him curiously, wondering about the mention of an Adviser. He had never mentioned it to her before.

"I should like that very much, friend. I accept." the Prince smiled as he put his goblet to his lips to take a generous swallow of the wine.

"Bon! Then, may I suggest some lighter fare for now, Your Highness? Mon Seigneur Sheriff?" Jean Louis inquired of both of the men.

"That will be grand." the Prince smiled.

"Perfect, Jean Louis. What do you suggest?" the Sheriff asked.

"I have prepared a light broth with some roasted venison and vegetables. There shall also be freshly baked bread, cheese, fruit, and dates." Jean Louis said.

"Cela semble parfait, Jean Louis." Rhiannon smiled.

Prince John raised his eyebrow, then smiled. He took another sip of the wine.

"Bon. And is that satisfactory to you, Your Highness? Mon Seigneur Sheriff?" the chef asked them.

"Perfect." the Prince nodded.

"Yes. That will be fine. And there shall be eight of us gathered to dine here this evening." Nottingham said.

"Very well." Jean Louis nodded. He left them and headed back into the kitchen.

"Lady Rhiannon, I see you know some French?" Prince John remarked.

"Yes. I've picked it up mostly from my Wardrobe Mistress, and some books." she said, humbly.

"Ah, you enjoy books, too! My! Then, we share two things in common." he smirked.

"Oh?" she asked as she sipped of her mulberry juice.

"Indeed. I'm an avid reader and collector of books; I also collect gemstones, by the way. And I'm well versed in the French language myself." he smiled.

"You are?"

"Why, yes, Milady. I spent the majority of my childhood in Anjou, you see. I was raised with my sister, Joan, at Fontevraud Abbey in the Village of Fontevraud l'Abbaye, in Anjou." he said.

"Oh. I did not know that, Your Highness." Rhiannon said.

"I also spent a good deal of time in the Angevin Empire with my father." he said.

"That is most interesting, Your Highness. I've never been to France." she said.

"C'est un bel endroit. Tu aimerais ça, Mademoiselle Rhiannon." the Prince smiled.

"Alors peut-être devrais-je demander à ma fiancée de m'y conduire." Rhiannon said.

"Oui. C'est l'endroit idéal pour la romance, Mademoiselle."

"Indeed. That's what Madam Oberon has said about it, too." Rhiannon smiled.

The Sheriff sipped of his brandy as he looked at them both, curiously.

"Madam Oberon?" the Prince asked.

"She is my Wardrobe Mistress. From France." Rhiannon said.

The Sheriff cleared his throat.

"Ah, Georgie! Why, I almost forgot you were there." the Prince chortled.

"Right. Could one of you enlighten me on what was just said?" the Sheriff asked them.

"Yes. I told her it was a beautiful place. France, that is; and that she would like it." Prince John said.

"And then, I said that perhaps I should have you take me there." Rhiannon added, smiling at her betrothed.

"Then, I commented that it is the perfect place for romance." the Prince grinned as he held out his goblet to them, then sipped from it.

"Yes, a getaway would be welcome. Although, I don't need grand gestures to keep the romance alive with my lady." Nottingham said.

"Indeed." Rhiannon smiled.

"Perhaps a change of scenery would be just the thing for you, though? When was the last time you two have shared time together, with no one to bother you?" Prince John asked.

"Well — " Rhiannon began, but was interrupted.

"It's been awhile." the Sheriff said.

"Then, you should consider it, George. I do believe it would do you some good." the Prince said.

"I shall think on it." Nottingham said, noncommittally.

He thought back to the one time he could recall when he and his lady were left alone for a time. It wasn't planned, but it turned out to be delightful.

Months ago, when he ventured north with a sack of gold to deliver it to the now dead fool who abducted his son. He ended up meeting with his men, directing them to search for the child as he and Guy made their way back home. After finding Rhiannon and Meridwyn held captive by the man, he went after Rhiannon who made her escape, as Guy escorted the prisoner, plus Meridwyn, back to the castle. The Sheriff thought of all of the places he and Rhiannon had set up camp on their way back to the castle. Even though he was concerned about his men finding his child, it was the only time that he and Rhiannon had been away together from the bustle of the castle and the duties that he was normally tasked with. It was just the way it was. Men who held a position like his didn't normally take time off for leisure. In fact, he couldn't think of many men, whether they were a nobleman or not, who were afforded the time to do that.

"George, old boy! The servant is asking if you'd like more brandy." Prince John said, interruptng his thoughts.

"Ah. Right." Nottingham said. He looked to the servant. "Yes, a top up is needed, indeed."

As the servant poured the brandy into his goblet, Rhiannon looked at him, curiously.

"Where were you just now, George?" she asked.

"Just thinking of that one time we were on a sort of… getaway, my dearest." he smiled.

"Yes. I remember it well." Rhiannon smiled back.

The prisoner was checking deep in the pocket of his breeches to make sure they were still there by positioning his body against the wall. Good. He could feel them against his leg. He would still work to get his hands free. It was the only way. He heard a noise, then looked up as the cell door swung upon.

"Ah! Good day, lad. Are you here to move me from this hellhole? Surely, you can see I'm not a threat."

"Just a threat to the Sheriff's lady and God only knows how many others." Joseph sighed.

"Then, why are you here?" Hamon inquired.

"Doing my job." Joseph said. He turned to the guard behind him.

"Check his cell, Aldred. And don't pay any heed to him." Joseph instructed.

The tall, burly guard nodded and proceeded to enter into the cell.

Half an hour later, the guard left the cell, satisfied he found nothing unusual in it. Joseph nodded to him and looked to the prisoner.

"I think you'll find I'm an agreeable sort. Perhaps you could unchain me when you bring the next tray of slop?" Hamon suggested.

"That would be a 'no'." Joseph said flatly, as he closed the door and locked it.

Hamon looked toward the door and smirked, satisfied he fooled them, yet again.

Late in the afternoon, nearing the gloaming, the Sheriff was entering into the bath chamber to check on his lady. She had been in there for quite awhile. Once again, he found her to be reading her book while soaking. The large book was placed upon a wooden tray that sat across the tub.

"My lady? Is everything alright?" he asked.

"Yes, my love. All is well. I'm just relaxed."

"I honestly don't know how you can see to read that with all of the steam floating in the air. In fact, there's no air in here, only… steam." he sighed.

"I can see it well. And the steam is good for the skin. At least, that's what Madam Oberon tells me. She's the beauty expert." Rhiannon said.

"Right. That's what you keep saying. It's not like you're in need of a beauty expert, my angel. You already are beautiful — even wearing that bath shirt, and with your hair soaked." the Sheriff smirked, salaciously.

"As long as you keep thinking that, that's all that matters." she smiled.

"Of course, I do. Always, my lady. You had best finish up. You're going to need to dress, and no doubt, primp even further for our evening feast." he advised her.

"Very well." she nodded.

"Good. I'll leave you to it — "

"George?"

"Yes, my lady."

"What's this about an Adviser on your staff? You've never mentioned it. An Adviser… since when?" Rhiannon asked, curiously.

"Since today." he replied, simply.

"Another… new hire."

"Rhiannon." he said sternly, as he folded his arms.

"He is new, is he not? You just said new as of today."

"You needn't concern yourself with it. Honestly. You shall meet him soon enough." Nottingham said, firmly.

"Yes, I suppose I will." she said.

Rhiannon wanted to say more, but was checking herself. She had been too flippant with her comments lately and the last thing she needed right now was to start a quarrel, right before dining with the Gisbornes; the Captain; the Prince, of all people; and some new bloke on staff and his lady wife. She didn't have the mental energy for a quarrel, and she was wondering how much mental energy she possessed for the expectation of having to sit through a meal with so many people. Sometimes she wished she and her betrothed could just get married privately, with no one around at all. Ever since she was told by Thomas that she was with child she found she craved peace almost as much as adventure.

"My lady? Didn't you hear me a moment ago?" the Sheriff asked, interrupting her thoughts.

"Forgive me, my love. What was it you were saying?"

"I shall make it up to you." he said, softly. He walked closer toward her and sat upon the wooden bench beside the tub.

"What do you mean?"

"I know it's a lot to ask to have you expected to socialize with so many people on short notice. I couldn't not invite him to dine with us tonight. It's important for Guy and my Captain to make an appearance, and — "

"You want him to meet your… Adviser." she said.

"Yes. Anyway, we don't need to spend all night with them. You're all mine, and mine alone afterward." he smiled as he caressed her cheek.

"George? Are you alright?"

"Yes, my lady. Of course, I am. Why do you ask such a peculiar question?"

"I might be wrong, but I'd swear you were seducing me. That's twice in just a couple of days."

"You'd be surprised." he said. "I can exercise control when needs be. Just depends on the mood." he winked as he arose from the bench. He cleared his throat. "I won't keep you any longer, Rhiannon. Finish up and get yourself dressed, my lady. I shall await you in the den." the Sheriff smiled.

"Very well." she smiled back.

As he left, Rhiannon finally had that familiar feeling again — that she was the luckiest lady in the world.

Mordrid and Alfred were dutifully manning the doors to the dungeon when the Sheriff's Lieutenant payed a surprise visit.

"Good evening, Sir Guy." Mordrid said.

Alfred nodded in obeisance to him.

"Good evening. I trust everything is going smoothly down here?" Guy said with his eyebrow quirked.

"Indeed. Nothing unusual." Mordrid said.

"Nobody besides yourself has come down here today, Sir Gisborne." Alfred added.

"Good." he nodded.

"Will the Scribe be joining you?" Mordrid asked.

"No. I'm not going to spoil my evening by interrogating the prisoner further. I'm here to meet with Joseph."

"Very well." Mordrid nodded as he opened the door.

"Sir, is it true Prince John is visiting?" Alfred asked.

"Yes. That is correct. I imagine the Sheriff shall be rounding up a bunch of you to meet with him in a day or two." Guy said.

"We shall be ready if we're summoned to do so, Sir Guy." Mordrid nodded.

Guy found Joseph after a few moments once he stepped inside. Joseph was conferring with a couple of the guards, directing them on their duties when he excused himself and approached the Lieutenant.

"Good evening, Sir Gisborne." he nodded.

"Good evening, Joseph. What news on our prisoner?"

"He's quiet and cooperative so far. Earlier, I had Aldred do a search of his cell as per your directives. We also checked it yesterday, as you know." Joseph said.

"Good. Anything amiss?"

"No, Sir Gisborne. We found nothing unusual in the prisoner's cell."

"That's reassuring. And you say he's being cooperative?"

"Yes. And rather… quiet." Joseph added.

"Hmm. That's a bit concerning. Almost like he's acting this way because he's plotting something." Guy sneered.

"I don't know how he could, Sir Gisborne. The only ones who have been to see him are you, the Sheriff, Ancel on one occasion, myself, and Aldred, who has performed the two cell checks." Joseph said.

"I wasn't going to bother with this, but… unlock his door for me." Guy ordered him.

"Very well." Joseph nodded. He extracted the key from his pocket and led Guy to the cell.

The door was unlocked, and Guy pushed the door open as he stepped inside.

"Ah, Sir Gisborne. I hope they told you I've been behaving like a good boy?" Hamon said, unfazed by the Lieutenant's presence.

"Sure. That's what troubles me." Guy sneered. He put his hand on the pommel of his sword and moved quickly toward him. "What the hell are you up to." he demanded.

"It's difficult to be up to anything being chained to the wall in this piddly little… room." Hamon said. He backed against the wall even more and felt the two small items jiggle in his pocket. He hoped the Lieutenant heard nothing.

No such luck.

"What the hell was that?" Guy demanded.

"I'm sorry? What was… what?" the prisoner asked, completely playing the fool.

"That peculiar noise, Spud! What was that?"

"Spud?"

"Potato. Whatever! Don't change the subject. What was that noise?" Guy pressed him.

"Probably the chains rattling. Ropes are much quieter, you know." Hamon said with a shrug.

"You're up to something and we're going to find out what it is. I promise you that. This isn't Nottingham Inn. You're not supposed to be comfortable in here." Guy reminded him.

"Ha! When was the last time you stayed at Nottingham Inn? I have, and so has Ancel, by the way. It's not exactly high quality."

"Do you think I am here to socialize with you? You absolute fool! I don't care to hear your review of your stay there. You are a prisoner now. I will find out what the hell you're up to. Never forget, prisoner: You are being watched." Guy warned.

"I'm aware. It's hard not to be watched in a… place like this." Hamon said, concealing a grin.

"Yes. The guards are armed. You are not. You'd do well to remember that." Guy said before exiting the cell.

Ha! Not armed with the usual variety of weaponry, but I do have something useful. Something none of you will ever know of. Not until the time is right. Hamon thought. He would be getting out of here. With or without Ancel's help. For now, he was biding his time, and being especially cooperative. It was the only choice he had or his plans would be compromised. He couldn't risk that.

It was just after dusk when the Sheriff and his lady were walking toward the Dining Hall. He was dressed in a black velvet doublet trimmed in gold, with golden buttons, and black suede breeches tucked into his shiny black boots. Lady Rhiannon held his arm. She was wearing a royal purple raw silk gown. Her hair which was still damp, was up and decorated with a ribbon that matched her gown. They saw Guy and Lady Meridwyn waiting outside the doors. Guy was dressed in fine black leather with silver accents on his doublet, his boots polished to a shine. Meridwyn was wearing a russet coloured satin gown with deep wine coloured embroidery throughout. Her hair was fashioned into a chignon with some loose tendrils framing her face.

"You could have waited for us inside, Gis." the Sheriff remarked.

"We've only just arrived, Cousin. Plus, it sounded a bit busy beyond the doors. I'm sure the staff are readying the Hall for us."

"I see. Well, no time like the present." he said as he opened the doors.

The room was aglow with the light from the candles placed in iron candelabrum on various tables throughout the room, including the one they would be seated at. A couple of large vases filled with flowers in autumn colours: Red, white, yellow, and orange, with plenty of greenery placed on the dining table, with smaller matching arrangements strategically placed on smaller tables throughout, further accented the decor.

"It's beautiful!" Meridwyn gasped.

"Yes. It is. I'm trying to imagine what it will look like on our wedding day, too, even though the fete will be in the Grand Hall." Rhiannon smiled.

"I'm sure it will be grand, my lady. Very memorable, indeed." the Sheriff smiled.

She sighed happily, returning his smile.

"So, have you met him yet, Rhi?" Meridwyn asked her friend.

"Yes, not long after his arrival. A rather interesting sort, and much… smaller than I had imagined." Rhiannon said.

"Well, compared to us, for sure." Guy smirked as he gestured to the Sheriff and himself.

"Who says you need to be tall to be King?" the Sheriff added.

"But he's not the King." Meridwyn corrected him.

"Not yet, but he will be one day, I'm sure." the Sheriff said with a quirk of his brow.

"Would that we could elect him as such." Guy muttered.

"Indeed." Nottingham agreed.

The ladies walked over to a small table where fruit punch was placed, leaving the men on their own for a brief interval. Guy took advantage of the opportunity to report to his cousin.

"I just paid a visit to the dungeon before escorting Meridwyn here, Cousin."

"And how goes it down there? I trust Joseph is keeping everything in order?"

"Yes. The guard, Aldred, searched the prisoner's cell again shortly before my arrival."

"Anything?" Nottingham asked.

"They found nothing, Cousin. Joseph mentioned something that I find curious, however." Guy hinted.

"What is that?"

"He said the prisoner has been quiet and cooperative. Rather unusual, don't you think?"

"Yes, especially since he's usually flapping his lips about something." he huffed. "I wonder if that bastard is up to something, Gis?"

"My words exactly, George." Guy said, softly. "I said as much to Joseph, and even to the prisoner."

"Ah, so you spoke with him?"

"Yes, only briefly. I didn't want to ruin this evening by spending too much time with him. Plus, I was already dressed in these clothes. Didn't want the foul odours of the dungeon contaminating them, or sticking to my hair, if you know what I mean." Guy sighed with a shake of his head.

"Oh, trust me. I understand completely, Gis."

"Joseph and the men down there are keeping close surveillance on the bloke, Cousin. There's just something about that prisoner that I don't like — besides the obvious reasons I don't like him." Guy said.

"I agree. He's still chained, I trust?"

"Aye. There's no concern about that."

"Good. Let's put it at the back of our minds and get this other formality over with." the Sheriff suggested.

Guy nodded. "Is he staying here, Cousin?"

"No. Thank Zeus for that. You know I'm fond of the man, but he's also exhausting at times."

"Oh, I agree. I find that, too, and he's only a couple of years older than me. He's got the energy of a young lad." Guy said.

"Indeed."

Just then, the Captain of the Black Knights entered the room. The ladies rejoined their men to greet him.

"Thank you for inviting me to dine with you all this evening, my Lord Sheriff." Duke Farnsworth said with a nod of his head.

"Of course, Duke. I thought it was important you be here." he nodded.

"It's been a good while since I last saw Prince John. This should be interesting." the Duke said.

"Indeed." Guy agreed.

"Yes, he's interesting, alright. If I recall correctly, he thinks quite highly of himself, too." Meridwyn commented, absently.

Rhiannon stifled a giggle.

"Don't all Royals, my dearest?" Guy asked.

"I suppose that's true. Although, I haven't met any others." Meridwyn shrugged.

"Don't worry, Meridwyn. Your husband and I have, and you're not missing much." Nottingham added, dryly.

The five of them shared a chuckle over that comment, and then the sentry outside the doors showed Robert and Isabelle inside.

Rhiannon looked over at them in surprise. She wasn't expecting their arrival.

"Ah, Wordsworth. There you are. Come. Join us!" the Sheriff said as he beckoned them.

Robert looked dapper, dressed in a dark navy suede doublet with silver trim and buttons, matching breeches and shiny black boots. Lady Isabelle held his arm as he led her toward the group, dressed in a navy blue velvet gown. The very gown Lady Rhiannon wore to Guy and Lady Meridwyn's wedding. Her golden hair was up, some tendrils flowing loose, and a ribbon to match her gown was threaded through tiny braids that circled around her head.

As they moved in closer, the Sheriff took the opportunity to formally introduce them to Duke Farnsworth.

"Robert and Isabelle Wordsworth, I'd like you to meet my Captain of the Black Knights and Lead Investigator, Duke Farnsworth." he smiled.

"Yes. Pleased to formally make your acquaintance, rather than… the last time we met." Robert nodded with a knowing glance.

"Indeed." the Captain said.

"Now, you know Robert has been employed as my Chief Blacksmith for nearly a month. However, he's been given an added duty now." the Sheriff began.

"He has?" Guy asked.

"Yes. Robert, my Chief Blacksmith, and soon to be brother in law is now my Adviser, as well." the Sheriff announced.

"Pardon?" Rhiannon asked.

"Why, yes, my dear. Why not? You of all people know he's far too intelligent to be labouring away in the armoury for the rest of his days." Nottingham said.

"That is true." Isabelle added.

"Yes, I suppose you're right." Rhiannon smiled.

"I'm pleased for you, Robert. I look forward to seeing you at our meetings." Duke Farnsworth said.

"The Town Council meetings, too, no doubt?" Guy added.

"Indeed. He'll be in attendance for those, as well." Nottingham nodded.

"Welcome to Team Boredom, Robert. Every. Sodding. Monday." Guy said with a shake of his head.

"Indeed, Cousin." the Sheriff sighed.

"Can't say that it bothers me I end up missing most of them, being kept busy with my duties." Duke Farnsworth said.

"Sounds like something to look forward to." Robert said, facetiously.

"Someone has to do it. Everyone in an important position must attend. It's tedious, but necessary." Nottingham said.

"Perhaps even character building. Although, I'm still deciding about that." Guy muttered.

"I'm proud of you, Brother." Rhiannon said, abruptly putting the conversation back on course.

"Thank you, Rhiannon." Robert smiled.

"As am I, dearest." Isabelle said to him.

"I'm grateful, my dear." Robert smiled.

"Sounds like the perfect cue for a toast. What's keeping Prince John, I wond — " Nottingham was interrupted by the doors opening and the Prince being shown inside.

"Ah! Forgive me, noblemen and ladies, for my tardiness." Prince John began as he walked closer toward the group. "Got tied up with a game of backgammon on the way back from the estate I'm staying at. You know I'm a fool for that game. Well, at least a couple of you knew… "

"It's fine, Your Highness. We weren't waiting long. You remember my Captain, Duke Farnsworth?" the Sheriff queried as he gestured to the Duke.

"Ah, yes. I believe I met you briefly once. Christian, isn't it?" the Prince asked.

"Indeed, Your Highness. Christian Farnsworth. A pleasure to see you again." the Duke said with a bow.

Ladies Rhiannon and Meridwyn shot knowing glances at one another. They both thought the same thing: They never knew the Captain's given name until now.

"Yes. Three years ago. It was just after you had taken over from Nichol Burgess, the good Sheriff's former Captain of the Black Knights. You were new to the role then, I believe. It was immediately following the time that Goody Two Boots — that Locksley character was running amuck with all of his foolish minions." Prince John sighed.

Isabelle squeezed Robert's hand tightly as a message of solidarity at the mention of the "foolish minions", also known as Robin Hood's men. Robert glanced at her briefly and smiled.

"That is correct, Your Highness. Nichol was my Captain once. I did meet you briefly when you came to visit the castle in ninety four." Duke Farnsworth said.

"I see that's working out very well for you, Christian." the Prince nodded.

"Indeed, Your Highness." Nottingham said. "It was Nichol who recommended him to me to consider as an Investigator. Nichol trained him. Duke Farnsworth was the obvious choice as Captain when… that turn of events took place." he added. He hoped this would be the end of it. He missed Nichol dearly. His lifelong friend.

Rhiannon looked at her betrothed, curiously. He looked rather saddened just now. He had never mentioned this Nichol fellow to her before.

"And, Sir Guy. Congratulations on your marriage. This must be your lady wife?" Prince John said to Guy and nodded to Meridwyn.

Nottingham exhaled a sigh of relief at the change in conversation.

"Indeed. This is my lady wife, Lady Meridwyn Gisborne." Guy said, proudly.

"It's nice to meet you again, Your Highness. We met briefly just after my husband and I began courting." Meridwyn said with a curtsy.

"Ah, yes. I think I remember that. Pleased to see you again, Lady Meridwyn." he said.

"Your Highness, this is Robert Wordsworth. He is my lady's eldest brother. He is also my Chief Blacksmith, as well as my newly appointed Adviser." Nottingham said as he gestured toward Robert.

"A pleasure to meet you, Your Highness." Robert said with a bow.

"Likewise." the Prince nodded.

"And this is my lady wife, Lady Isabelle Wordsworth" Robert said, gesturing to her.

"Charmed, Milady." the Prince nodded.

Isabelle curtsied in deference to him.

"Pleased to meet you, Your Highness." she said.

The Prince smiled, then looked to Lady Rhiannon.

"How nice to see you again, Lady Rhiannon." the Prince smiled.

"Likewise, Your Highness." Lady Rhiannon said with a curtsy.

"Were you caught in the rain, or something? Your hair is wet, Milady." he pointed out.

"Well, yes. I was… checking on my horse in the stables earlier. There wasn't enough time to allow for it to dry after that." she lied.

Nottingham looked at her curiously, wondering why she said that.

Rhiannon had a strong instinct that she mustn't tell the Prince the truth of why her hair was damp. She did not want him to have the image in his head of her soaking in a hot bath, bath shirt or not. There was only one man who was permitted to have that picture painted for him.

At this point, Jean Louis was strolling toward the group wearing his pristine white apron over his black tunic and breeches, and a friendly smile.

"Ah, Jean Louis! Good evening." Nottingham greeted him.

"Bonsoir, mon Seigneur Sheriff." the chef smiled. He looked to the Prince. "Your Highness. Good to see you again." Jean Louis bowed.

"Bonsoir." Prince John nodded.

"What have you got for us tonight, Jean Louis?" the Sheriff asked.

"Is it venison?" the Prince asked.

"Twice in one day, Your Highness? With respect, I served venison soup earlier. However, if you'd like venison I can easily arrange that." Jean Louis suggested.

"Pas nécessairement. Dites-nous les autres sélections." Prince John directed.

Lady Rhiannon looked down and rolled her eyes.

Meridwyn nudged her and whispered.

"What did he say, Rhi?" she asked.

"Basically, the same damn thing my betrothed asked." Rhiannon whispered.

"Droit. Does everyone like chicken?" the chef asked.

Everyone in the group nodded enthusiastically.

"Bon! I have prepared for your dining pleasure a dish called Chykonys in Bruette. It is a beautiful boiled, tender chicken I've had stewing in a sauce of ale, ginger, saffron, pepper, and breadcrumbs." Jean Louis smiled.

"Delightful!" Prince John exclaimed.

"Yes. That sounds fine, Jean Louis." the Sheriff nodded.

"There is more! We shall start with a savoury vegetable broth served with fresh from the hearth, warm baked bread to whet your appetites. Next, I shall bring the chicken dish. I've also prepared steamed carrots with tiny baby onions cooked in a beautiful — "

"Here we go with Jean Louis' prose again." the Sheriff teased.

"Oui. Pardonne-moi, mon Seigneur Sheriff." Jean Louis nodded.

"Continue, Jean Louis. I'm eager to hear about the rest of the fare you have prepared for us." Rhiannon smiled.

"Merci, Mademoiselle Rhiannon." he smiled back. "Oui. As I was saying, steamed carrots with miniature onions — "

"Onions? Really, Jean Louis?" Nottingham asked while making a face.

"Oui, mon Seigneur Sheriff. When onions are cooked they are actually sweet. These shall be cooked."

"Oh, I see. Continue, then." he said.

"I steamed them, then sautéed them in butter, et du jus d'orange. For dessert, I have prepared stewed pears and mulberries in a jus de cerise, plus there is plenty of dates, figs, nuts, and the servants shall keep the goblets filled." Jean Louis said.

"Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm looking forward to this delicious sounding feast!" Prince John commented, effusively.

"Indeed. Except, I know what you mean by juice d'orange, but what exactly is juice de sarees, Jean Louis?" Nottingham asked.

"Cherry juice." was the answer uttered in unison by Jean Louis, Lady Rhiannon, and Prince John.

"Oh my! That just sounds like absolute Heaven!" Isabelle smiled.

"Oh, I forgot to mention the custard tarts made with beautiful almond lait instead of regular lait." Jean Louis smiled.

"Wait… lay?" Nottingham asked.

"Milk, my love. Lait means milk." Rhiannon said.

"What? How do you get milk out of an almond? What form of magick is this?" Guy asked, genuinely.

"It's a tedious process, Sir Gisborne, but it can be done. The result is better than with ordinary milk." Jean Louis said.

"I see. Sort of… " Gisborne sighed.

"Take your seats, and the servants shall be bringing the broth, and filling your goblets, forthwith." Jean Louis instructed.

Rebeccah was seated on a chair by the window, sipping a cup of hot tea and reading some correspondence when she was startled by a knock at her door. She sighed. She assumed it would be the Sheriff coming to see her.

"Good evening, Rebeccah." Ancel said with a half smile.

"What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be guarding something?" Rebeccah huffed.

"I'm free for the moment, so I came to check on you."

"Well, I'm just grand, Aleyn." she sighed heavily, silently chastising herself for continuing to make the mistake. "Ancel. Don't know if I'll ever get used to that? Anyway, yes. Just grand, being stuck in this room in this castle, unable to leave it. Like a prisoner."

"Hungry?" he asked.

"Seriously?"

"No. I'm jesting." Ancel sighed. "Of course, I'm serious. There's a tray that was just placed outside of your room. I told the servant and the sentry I'd take care of it." he turned and moved off to the side, then stood before her holding the tray.

"Well, I suppose I could eat something. Fine. Bring it in." she sighed as she held the door open wider for him.

Ancel moved through the threshold and found a table near to a chair, which he set the tray upon.

"This is lunacy, Al… Ancel. Do you have any idea the real reason I am here?" Rebeccah asked.

"Come, Rebeccah. Sit. More tea? I see you have a cup sitting here."

"Maybe I need something stronger. Or… maybe not. I can't tell anymore. Feels like I'm in some kind of bizarre fever dream, to be perfectly frank." Rebeccah sighed as she resumed her place in the chair.

"I'll start as best I can, then you can decide between tea, or spirits." Ancel suggested.

"Alright. Begin, then. What is happening?"

"The man I had travelled with to Nottingham — from Portsmouth, to be exact, started showing a very dark and sinister side to him not long after we arrived here."

"Alright. I think something along those lines was mentioned yesterday. What about… our meeting each other? Was that planned?"

"No, my dear. It was not planned." Ancel said, as he moved toward the window, and distracted himself for a brief moment with the sound and smell of rain.

"And our visits? What about the time you… kissed me?"

"That was all me, Rebeccah. Nothing to do with him." Ancel said, turning around to face her.

"But… you did lie to me. Even about your name." she reminded him.

"It was necessary. The Sheriff was looking for my… former friend. I was certain I was on the wanted list, too. I was gathering information, trying to stay steps ahead of the man I was… consorting with; except, I wasn't truly consorting with him, Rebeccah. I was playing a role. He had dangerous motives. The day I was captured by Luke, and brought here by the Sheriff's men, I already planned to come here that very day to request a meeting with the Sheriff."

"Really?" Rebeccah sighed. "I suppose this is the story you sold to Milord Sheriff."

"I don't know about selling anything. I was presenting the facts." Ancel said with a quirk of his brow.

"Alright?" Rebeccah shrugged.

"Look, you know the Sheriff doesn't suffer fools well. I was put through a vigorous interview process that commenced as interrogation. At the end of last Wednesday night's questioning, he put me in a room. There was sentry outside of the door, but that was it. The following morning, he, his Lieutenant, and the Captain of the Black Knights were back to question me again. And at the end of that meeting I was offered a position with the Black Knights, and sent on my first mission that very afternoon." Ancel explained.

"Hmm. You're either the greatest thespian in the world, or quite brilliant minded." Rebeccah said.

"Yes. I've heard that a few times from the outset by some of the Sheriff's men." Ancel admitted.

"I don't know what I should belie — "

"It's up to you what you choose to believe, Rebeccah. All I can tell you is what I know — within reason so as not to compromise our investigation, and act accordingly. From there, in time, you can make a judgement call."

"I see."

"In the meantime, I'm just down the hall, unless the Sheriff tasks me with something, should you need me."

"We shall see… " Rebeccah said, softly. Then, her eyes widened in realization. "Wait… down the hall? As in, you're guarding a room there?"

"No. My rooms for the time being are just down the hall. We were heavily involved in the mission to find the man I speak of. Because of that mission, many of the Sheriff's men were given lodging here. Including me." he explained.

"Down the hall. Right. Well, don't be getting any ideas." she said.

"I'm merely suggesting to you that I am close by should you need my assistance with anything, Rebeccah." Ancel said as he stared into her soft brown eyes.

She blinked and looked away uncomfortably after a few seconds. He couldn't be lying. Could he?

"I see. Right. I shall keep that in mind, but I'm sure I'll be fine."

"Just remember. I'm not too far away." he said.

And then, he looked upon her face a moment, then turned and exited the room, leaving her bewildered and stunned.

There was a cold wind coming through the window of the room. She could smell the decay of the wet autumn leaves wafting through it. A soft orange glow was present. She opened her eyes and saw the Nun sitting by the window. The golden amber light from torches ensconced on the walls and the candles provided the ambient light. The Nun paused while reading and looked over to the bed, reacting to the sound she heard when the maiden stirred.

"How are you feeling, Celest?" Sister Isemay asked, softly.

The Nun set the book on a nearby table, arising from her chair and approached the bedside. Instinctively, she reached down to gently touch the maiden's forehead, checking for the presence of fever.

The maiden found her touch soothing.

"Alive. I'm grateful for that." Celestria said.

"Indeed, Miss. Now, let's get you propped up against some pillows. You've been sleeping all blessed day, child. You must take some nourishment. I won't hear any argument about it." the Nun declared more firmly.

"Alright. I shall try my best, only because you insist, Sister." the maiden relented with a sigh.

The Nun excused herself, saying she was leaving to fetch the tray.

Celestria sat up, reclining against the pillows. It was the first time she felt more lucid after resting and didn't feel the weight of her eyelids forcing her to close them. She was just beginning to understand the enormity of her situation, how she arrived where she is now, and pondering what she should do about it.

Was she safe to leave here when her health was restored? She realized after a few moments she really wasn't safe now. She couldn't go back to the brothel. She remembered the moment the Sheriff came for her on Sunday. Madam Birghiva was acting rather strange, almost as if she somehow knew she'd never see Celestria again. Celestria couldn't tell if that was because the Madam had a bad feeling about it, or if it was because she was the one who alerted the Sheriff of Celestria's return? Either way, she was going to need to gather her wits about her and think fast.

She wasn't sure how much she could handle of being incessantly observed and coddled. She was going to need to eventually get out of Nottingham altogether. It was the only way before the Sheriff discovered she had survived. She lived through the poison that was meant to kill her. Except, Celestria couldn't help but wonder: she made him happy once — didn't she? Why couldn't she make him see that? There had to be a way for her to finally get him to see that she could make him happy again — wasn't there?

Her thoughts were interrupted when the Nun returned to the room holding a tray. Behind her was Father Tuttle. The Nun resumed her position at the bedside placing the tray on a table beside it. The Priest stood beside her at the bedside.

"Do you remember me, Miss?" he asked.

"Aye. Father Tuttle." she nodded.

"Is there anything about you I should know? Like… do you have a… criminal past, for instance?" he asked as if it were an ordinary question.

"I'm sorry… a what?" she asked, incredulously.

"Father Tuttle — " the Nun gave him a stern glance from her seated position.

He held up his hand toward her to silence her. Then, he sighed.

"Look, there's two reasons I ask, Miss. One is relevant to how we can help you. The other reason is… it wasn't that long ago, for I remember it well, when Archibisop Thomas Becket of Canterbury was killed in the Canterbury Cathedral." Father Tuttle explained.

"Uh… " Celestria began.

"Father, I think you're comparing apples to oranges. Firstly, that was almost seventeen years ago, and secondly, the Knights thought they were doing the work of King Henry II." she paused a moment, nodding to her charge. "I mean, look at her. The girl is so weakened she couldn't harm a fly." the Nun said, shaking her head.

"Alright. I'll grant you that." he conceded. "She is a waif of a thing." he then looked to Celestria and said, "By the way, Miss, that was your cue to go ahead and eat some of that stew on the tray. We can talk a bit while you nourish yourself."

"Alright." Celestria shrugged slightly. She took the bowl and spoon from the Nun and tasted the mutton and vegetable stew that had been prepared for her. She had to admit it had a pleasing taste to it. After she swallowed she looked to the Priest. "I have committed no crime, Father. Unless… well, I suppose my occupation would be considered a crime in your eyes."

"Ah, I see." he said with a sigh. "Alright. First, what is your name — "

"Her name is Celest, Father." Sister Isemay said.

"That's right." Celestria nodded as she took another spoonful of the savoury stew.

"Well, Celest, there's a protocol in place that could keep you safe. It is usually offered to criminals who have committed serious crimes, like murder, for instance. The kind of crimes that the criminal is wanted for, and is facing imprisonment and or death." he attempted to explain.

Celestria swallowed the stew and followed it with a sip of soft ale. She placed the goblet on the table and looked at him with a quirk of her brow.

"Are you asking me if my being poisoned was justified by whatever misdeeds I carried out?"

"There doesn't need to be a reason. Sister Isemay told me who did this to you, Celest. Look at whom we're speaking of, for the love of Mary — the Sheriff of Nottingham. Did he ever need a reason to kill a person? Although, I have to admit, the poisoning method is a new one, even for him."

"I… uh… suppose not."

"That's what I mean, Miss. He tried to kill you once. What do you think he would do if he knew you survived?" the Priest remarked. He raised his eyebrow, knowingly.

"I imagine he might try again." Celestria sighed. "But… you don't understand. I angered him. I don't remember how." she lied. "But, I angered him."

"Dear girl, what kind of hold has he on you? You mustn't explain away his cruel actions." Sister Isemay said.

"She's right. Do not make excuses, Miss. You very nearly died! Four days have passed before you finally have the energy for a conversation." Father Tuttle reminded her.

"Alright. So, what is the protocol that you're suggesting we follow, then?" Celestria asked.

"In regular cases of a criminal wanted for a violent crime, we could offer sanctuary. I'm suggesting that in a unique case like this I could grant you that privilege." Father Tuttle said, simply.

"Are there drawbacks to that option?" Celestria asked.

"In a usual case it is granted for forty days. Even if the Sheriff were stationed outside the door, he would not be permitted to enter to arrest you, by the laws of the church."

"And what normally happens after forty days?" she asked.

"In order to live freely the criminal would need a royal pardon from the King — which is usually never granted. If the person chose to leave and come back he or she would not be permitted to bring any type of weaponry into the church." Father Tuttle explained.

"And? You better tell her the rest, Father." the Nun said.

"What's the rest of it?" Celestria asked.

"Usually, at the end of it the criminal is exiled to another country, often France, forbidden to return to England." Father Tuttle said, solemnly.

"What? I can't leave the country, Father!" Celestria exclaimed.

"But, that's the thing, Miss. Your case is different. If you've committed no crime, then I'm almost certain that would not happen to you."

"Must I give an answer now? I've only just summoned enough energy to chew anything, never mind think, Father." Celestria implored him.

"No, I do not require an answer now. I wanted to discuss the option with you. You finish your stew and try to get well, Celest. We shall talk again when you're feeling a little stronger. In the meantime, Sister Isemay shall continue attending to your needs, and I shall pray for you, Miss." the Priest said with a smile.

And then, he left the room, leaving Celestria in a whirlwind of thoughts.

The libations were flowing at the grand table in the Dining Hall in Nottingham Castle. Everyone gathered was enjoying the delicious feast, and feeling the effects of the spirits. Even Ladies Rhiannon and Meridwyn had decided to enjoy a goblet of wine this night. Since they'd been abstaining they noticed it as if they'd had two or three measures of it.

The Sheriff and Gisborne sat at each end of the table with their ladies seated on their right. To the left of the Sheriff sat Prince John, with Isabelle beside him on his left. Duke Farnsworth sat to the left of Guy, with Robert on his left. The group were just finishing the deliciously prepared chicken, which Jean Louis had referred to as Chykonys in Bruette, and the carrot dish which was served with it.

Duke Farnsworth set his goblet of wine on the table and looked across and to his left at the Prince.

"Are you staying nearby, Your Highness? Here, perhaps?" he asked.

"Oh, mercy, no. I have an estate not too far from here. It's just the other side of Sherwood on River Trent in the town of Newerche; about a mile or two from St. Mary Magdalene Church. It's an easy journey on the Great North Way." the Prince smiled.

"Be careful when travelling, Your Highness. There are still highwaymen looking to steal from wealthy travellers." Gisborne cautioned.

"Yes, but less so since your cousin took care of Goody Two Boots for me three years ago — and his entire group of minions." Prince John grinned.

Isabelle sighed softly and shot her husband a reassuring smile. Robert winked at her, surreptitiously. Rhiannon noticed Isabelle's smile and was warmed by her sister in law's adulation for her brother.

"Yes, Your Highness." Nottingham said as he took a sip of the tincture of rapture from his goblet.

"I think it would still behoove you to take some care, Your Highness. Never underestimate the motives of unsavoury characters you may come across on the Great North Way." Robert added.

"Yes, Robert. I agree. That's why I keep myself armed; and the driver, Bardolph, is good with a blade and bow, as well." he looked back to Duke Farnsworth. "Anyway, yes. To answer your question, that's where I'm staying for now. Sometime next month I shall be visiting France." Prince John smiled.

"I see." the Duke nodded.

"You're always welcome here, Your Highness." Nottingham said. He only mentioned it to be polite.

"Ah, Georgie! I thank you, but there's a flurry of people and activity here. I'm fine where I am. I enjoy the quiet. It affords me time to enjoy my books, and I can come and go as I please anytime I feel like engaging my other interests." he said.

The Sheriff nodded and concealed a sigh of relief.

"Can you share with us what some of your interests are, Your Highness?" a beat. "It's not every day a woman such as myself has an opportunity to be seated next to a Prince to enjoy a feast." Isabelle said with a smile.

"Of course, Lady Isabelle." Prince John said as he looked to his left. "I'm an avid reader as I've already stated. I collect books, gemstones, and I also greatly enjoy hunting, games, and fetes."

"Games? What variety of games, if I may ask?" Robert asked.

"Backgammon, mostly." the Prince smiled as he sipped of the wine from his goblet.

The Sheriff and Guy shot knowing glances at one another. They knew the Prince liked to gamble during his games of backgammon.

"Rhiannon enjoys books, too." Isabelle smiled.

"Does she, now?" Prince John said enthusiastically as he swung his head back across from him to Lady Rhiannon.

"Yes. I believe I mentioned that earlier to you, Your Highness." Rhiannon said as she took a bite of carrot from her fork.

"What kinds of books, my dear?" he asked.

She cringed internally when he called her that. She didn't mind it coming from her betrothed, her brother and sister in law, Meridwyn, or even Lady Margaret, or Mortianna. She wouldn't even mind it if Sir Guy used the endearment in addressing her, but Prince John was still a stranger to her.

"Rhiannon? He's waiting for your answer, dearest." Robert said as he looked curiously to his left at her.

"Yes. Right." Rhiannon muttered.

The Sheriff looked at her curiously. He was getting a sense that she was a little uncomfortable with the Prince.

"Fiction mostly. I like the escapism it provides. One can get lost in a good story when they allow their imagination to wander freely." she said as she took a small sip of the wine. It wasn't the best tasting wine she'd ever had and she couldn't imagine the appeal of low quality wine to the Prince, of all people.

"Are you reading something now? Perhaps I've heard of it, my dear."

"Sure. It's titled "Erec and Enide". It's a book written by — "

"Chrétien de Troyes. Ah, yes! I am familiar with it. A little fanciful for my tastes. Which part of the book are you reading at the moment, my dear?"

"Well, I believe that…" she paused a moment, sipping again of the unpleasant tasting wine as an excuse to recollect. "Yes. I just finished the exciting bit where Érec defeated the evil Knight, Yder, for the sparrow-hawk, then approached Enide's father after that for permission to marry her. Next, he accompanied Enide to King Arthur's court. Guinevere had just met her when I last put it down." Rhiannon said.

"Sounds enchanting, dearest. I must read it when you're finished with it!" Isabelle sighed happily at the sound of such a romantic tale.

"Meridwyn is reading another of his books, too." Rhiannon said.

"Yes. It's quite enthralling." Meridwyn nodded as she took a bite of chicken from her fork.

"Indeed, Meridwyn. I quite like the author's work." Rhiannon said. She looked back to the Prince. "I read one of his later books before start — " she was interrupted.

"Ah! Let me guess. You wanted to read about Lancelot." Prince John guessed.

"Yes. That is correct." Rhiannon said.

"All the ladies are enamoured with the tale of Lancelot." Duke Farnsworth said.

"Isn't that the truth, friend?" Nottingham grinned.

"How did you guess the other book I have read?" Rhiannon asked, curiously.

"Just a hunch, my dear. I figured that was more likely than "Yvain, the Knight of the Lion"." the Prince said with a quirk of his brow.

"I see." Rhiannon muttered as she took a more generous swallow of the wine to stay her unease with his interest and familiarity with her.

"One of my favourite quotes from the book I mentioned, I believe holds true in life. It goes like this: Ceux qui n'en savent rien, dis-je,

Prétendent qu'ils aiment, mais en cela ils mentent ;

Le véritable amour semble fable à ceux que je cite,

Qui se vantent de l'amour mais n'en ont pas le droit." Prince John said as he narrowed his dark green eyes upon her. He took a mouthful of chicken and surreptitiously licked his lips.

Meridwyn sighed and looked across to Rhiannon.

"Rhiannon? What did he say?" Meridwyn asked.

"It translates to this… " Rhiannon swallowed before continuing. Those who know naught of it, say I,

Claim they love, but in that they lie;

True love seems fable to those I cite,

Who boast of love but lack the right." she said softly, then immediately followed that with a generous swill of the wine — cursing herself for not choosing the brandy, and looked downcast.

Nottingham's eyebrow shot north as he pondered the meaning behind the Prince citing that particular quote. Why was the Prince… acting somewhat inappropriate with Lady Rhiannon? He sighed. He had a mind to tell Jean Louis to make certain any further wine top ups for the Prince were watered down!

"You should read that, Milady. It is masterfully done." Prince John remarked.

"I shall keep that in mind when I finish the current one, Your Highness."

"I do believe I have that book in my library at my estate in Newerche. You must come and see the library some time, my dear." the Prince said as he looked into her eyes a few seconds longer than was customary.

Rhiannon swallowed, dryly.

"Perhaps my betrothed and I might visit sometime; although, my betrothed has a beautiful, expansive library, too." Rhiannon commented absently, as she took another generous swallow of wine. She was starting to feel light, and more carefree about her wording.

"And if he's kept busy, you could still come to see it, I'm sure." the Prince suggested.

"Your Highness, with all due respect, I'm not in the habit of visiting a man's home without being accompanied by my betrothed — unless the man I'm visiting is my brother." she said boldly, while nodding to her right at Robert. "Robert is the only other one I'd have accompany me. Alas, he is kept rather busy." Rhiannon said.

Meridwyn lightly nudged Isabelle and the two ladies shot knowing smirks at one another.

"Quite right, Milady. Forgive me." Prince John nodded.

Nottingham looked down at the table to conceal the proud grin that turned up the corners of his moustache.

At this point, Jean Louis approached the table with lady servants following behind him to clear the dishes and main course.

"I do hope the chicken dish was to everyone's liking?" Jean Louis asked.

"It was good, Jean Louis. As always. Except… for that galimafree you served once." Nottingham said.

Rhiannon stifled a giggle.

"It wasn't just good, old boy." Prince John said. He looked to Jean Louis next. "C'était délicieux. Merde proche de la perfection!"

"Merci, Votre Altesse." Jean Louis smiled as he bowed.

"I would say it's almost as good as the mini venison pies." Rhiannon said.

"I'll agree with that!" Meridwyn said as she took a sip of wine from her goblet.

At this juncture many of them started telling the Prince more about the venison pies after he expressed interest in hearing more about them, and the Sheriff used the opportunity to beckon the chef to come closer to him.

"Oui, mon Seigneur Sheriff?" Jean Louis whispered.

"I don't care who he is, you take your orders from me." Nottingham whispered firmly, while side eyeing the Prince. "If he asks for more wine, you shall give him a diluted version of it."

"Oui. As you wish." Jean Louis whispered with a nod.

"I'd tell you to cease serving wine to him entirely, but he's the Prince, for the love of Zeus." Nottingham muttered in annoyance.

Jean Louis nodded, then turned and left, following the servants back to the kitchen.

Within moments, there were a few different conversations in progress. Everyone except for the Sheriff and Prince John were completely engaged, and momentarily oblivious to them.

Nottingham took a generous swig of the brandy while looking intently at the Prince.

"You alright, old boy?" Prince John asked quietly, so only the Sheriff could hear him.

"What… are you doing? What was that quote about? Were you having a dig at me?" Nottingham asked in a whisper with his eyes narrowed, suspiciously.

"If the boot fits, old boy. I mean… what do you know of love, anyway?"

"I say, more than you. I can tell you that I'd die to protect her, and I'd kill anyone who would dare to harm her." Nottingham said, nodding to his right at Rhiannon while looking into the eyes of the Prince. "Can you say the same about your lady wife?"

"Is that a threat, old friend? Regicide is a serious crime, you know." the Prince cautioned, narrowing his deep green eyes, suspiciously.

"I'm stating a fact. I have killed for her. More than once. I would do it again. In a heartbeat." Nottingham said, firmly.

Rhiannon's ears perked as she could suddenly hear a few words coming from her betrothed. She took her goblet and looked downward, taking a sip. She moved in closer to her left, into the conversation. Was she imagining it, or did her betrothed just say something about killing for her?

"Fascinating. So, you suddenly know what love is, then?" Prince John scoffed.

"Since I met her. That's when I knew. Like a newborn learning how to breathe." he paused a moment. "She's off limits. Just a friendly reminder." Nottingham said softly with a quirk of his brow.

The Prince looked at the Sheriff a moment. His eyes looked like glass, and he had difficulty focusing.

"Never mind. You're drunk. You probably didn't hear a word I've said." the Sheriff muttered with a subtle shake of his head.

"I'm aware, Georgie. I heard you. There's no need for concern." the Prince whispered.

The Sheriff nodded, then took another sip of brandy.

"The stewed pears and mulberries, and custard tarts, mon Seigneur Sheriff!" Jean Louis announced, surprising them all with his return to the table.

The chef turned and beckoned the servants to come forward.

"I do hope you like the tarts. They are rich and creamy with the right amount of lemon infused in them." Jean Louis smiled.

"Thank you, Jean Louis." Nottingham said with a nod.

The individual bowls of fruit were given out, and two trays with the custard tarts were placed at either end of the table. The servants began to refill everyone's goblet, but one only approached the Prince and refilled his.

He took a sip and made a face. "Did you run out of the other wine, Miss? What is this?"

"No, Your Highness." the servant lied.

Prince John waved her away, in annoyance.

"Does anyone else's wine taste a little off?" the Prince asked around the table.

"Mine tastes just fine." Duke Farnsworth declared.

"I think it tastes the same as the last measure of it." Meridwyn said.

"I see no difference, personally." Isabelle shrugged.

"I've had slightly sweeter varieties, but I would agree. There's no difference, Your Highness." Robert nodded.

"I can't say, as I chose mead. It's been awhile since I've enjoyed a good goblet of it." Guy said.

"I can't comment, because I chose my favourite brandy." Nottingham said. He looked down and concealed a smirk.

"And yours, Lady Rhiannon?" the Prince inquired.

"Well… " she parried.

"Oh, come now, my dear. Out with it." he said. while waving his fingers toward him in a beckoning gesture.

There it was again. He dared to use a term of endearment with her, right in front of her betrothed — her whole family, in fact. Damn the man!

"Alright. Do you want my honest opinion?" Rhiannon asked, abruptly. Her eyebrow was quirked in a knowing gaze.

"Why, yes. Of course." the Prince said.

"As far as wines go, no offence, but it's the worst tasting wine I've ever sampled." Rhiannon blurted.

Both the Sheriff and Guy looked down and concealed their chuckles.

"Really?" Prince John remarked.

"In fairness, Your Highness, it is rather on the dry side. Almost vinegary, in fact." Robert added in an attempt to soften his sister's harsh remark.

"I do believe you're right, Robert." Isabelle chimed in. "It is quite dry, actually."

"Well, mine tasted fine up until now. Now, I can barely taste it." the Prince said. Then, he looked to his right at the Sheriff. "Isn't that rather odd, old boy?"

"I suppose." Nottingham shrugged, then tasted of the stewed pears and mulberries.

"The fruit dish is stupendous!" Isabelle exclaimed in a purposeful move to distract the Prince, whom appeared to be annoyed.

"Indeed, Isabelle. It's divine!" Meridwyn agreed. She looked down the table to her right at the Sheriff and Rhiannon. "I think you should consider this dessert for your wedding feast."

"The custard tarts, too." Guy suggested.

"Ah, yes. The wedding." Prince John muttered.

"What of it, Your Highness?" Robert asked, curiously.

"It is nothing, really. It's just… " he began to say, and then his words trailed off.

Nottingham regarded him with a curious quirk of his brow.

"It just came as a shock, I suppose. I never thought I'd see the day." Prince John muttered as he took a generous mouthful of the diluted wine. He shook his head.

"Understandable. I was shocked initially, as well. However, I think they're well suited." Robert said.

"Do you, now?" Prince John asked, facetiously.

"Yes, I do. With respect, Your Highness, you haven't witnessed them together. Most of us here have." Robert said. He took a sip of the wine before continuing. "I don't often meet couples who are truly happy and devoted to one another. You are seated amongst three of such couples."

"You truly believe that?" Prince John asked as his eyes narrowed.

"I do. I gave my blessing to this union, and on that day I shall be giving my sister away to Milord Sheriff." Robert nodded.

"Thank you, Robert." Nottingham said.

Robert nodded to him.

"I suppose it's just that I've known George for many years. It comes as a shock because it seems out of character. You see, I knew him… before." Prince John said. He suspected he'd probably imbibed too much and that's why he was carelessly taking the conversation in a slightly unpleasant direction.

"Your Highness, with respect, we've all heard the stories, and my husband knows better than anyone… about that." Isabelle said, quietly. She took a generous swallow of the wine for courage. "The point is that people can change. Robert and I have seen it for ourselves, and we are pleased about the upcoming nuptials."

"I see. Forgive me. It must be the wine talking." the Prince said, as he took another swallow of it. "You know, I swear there's something not right about this wine."

Secretly, the Prince wondered about the true meaning of what Lady Isabelle just spoke of. What did she mean about the Sheriff's new Adviser knowing better than anyone about how the Sheriff used to be?

"Perhaps it tastes differently since you're having sweet foods with it, Your Highness?" the Duke suggested.

"Ah! Yes, Christian. I never considered that. That might be the cause, indeed." Prince John nodded.

Nottingham took a sip of his brandy, grateful for the change in the conversation.

"Speaking of married couples." Guy began. "Will the Countess of Gloucester be joining you as your guest to the wedding, Your Highness?" he asked.

The Sheriff sighed as he set the goblet back down and looked to the table.

"No. She has her own interests and, in fairness, she hasn't met Milord Sheriff." the Prince said as he took a bite of the pears and mulberries.

"I'm sure it would make no difference that she hasn't met him, Your Highness?" Duke Farnsworth suggested.

"Whatever. She is not — " the Prince was unable to speak further at this point. He glanced around the table to everyone gathered with a look of pure fright upon his face.

"Your Highness?" Nottingham asked, concernedly.

The Prince could only stare at him, his countenance becoming pallid as moments passed. His eyes widened and his hands went to his throat. Then, he stood from his seat, still holding his throat.

"Your Highness!" Guy shouted. "Can you not speak?"

Isabelle, who was seated just to the left of him, stood from her chair, as well.

The Sheriff, Lady Rhiannon, and Robert looked to Isabelle, curious about her demeanour. She almost appeared as if she were prepared to assist him in some way?

"Your Highness? What is the matter?" Duke Farnsworth implored him.

"Oh, my God! I think he's choking!" Meridwyn exclaimed. Her blue eyes were widened in a frightful expression.

Isabelle ignored them, and looked into his eyes. At this point, his colour was turning a pale shade of blue.

"It will be alright, Your Highness." she said. "Now, try and bend a bit forward over your chair."

He looked at her with fear in his eyes, but obeyed, notwithstanding. He turned away from her, holding the back of the chair with one hand, the other still positioned on his throat, and bent slightly forward over it.

Isabelle reached across his back with her right hand.

Lady Rhiannon and Robert shot surprised glances at one another.

"What are you doing, Isabelle? Do you even know?" Meridwyn demanded, trepidatiously.

Isabelle gave her a reassuring smile. She placed her hand at the centre of his back near the bottom of his shoulder blades. Next, she pulled her hand back, then slapped him in the same place with a quick upward motion.

"Isabelle Alyson de Lorris Wordsworth! What in the devil are you doing?" Robert demanded, using her full name to punctuate his disapproval as he stood from his chair.

Nottingham stood from his chair, as well, wondering the same thing Robert was, and whether or not he should stop her?

The Prince was still holding his throat, his eyelids growing heavy as his face turned more of a shade of lavender now.

"Sometimes it takes a few times, Your Highness. Bear with me." Isabelle said gently, as she repeated the motion.

"Maybe you should summon for Thomas, George?" Guy suggested.

"There is no time for that, Sir Gisborne. Trust me." Isabelle said, confidently. She prepared to try the manoeuvre she had learned one more time.

"I have to do it again, Your Highness. I must." Isabelle explained, quickly.

Everyone gathered were staring at the scene, waiting with bated breath. And then, Lady Isabelle gave one last smack to the centre of his mid back, just between his shoulder blades, using the same motion as before.

The offending slice of pear and a mulberry or two flew from his mouth, landing in the centre of the table. The Prince relaxed his hand from his throat, gasped, coughed, then took a few breaths.

"Your Highness?" Nottingham asked, tentatively.

The Prince ignored him. He coughed a little more and took a small sip of wine. Next, he turned toward Isabelle.

Everyone at the table exchanged glances of varying degrees of astonishment upon their faces.

"Can you speak, Your Highness?" Isabelle asked.

"My dear lady, I can't thank you enough. I do believe you have… saved my life." the Prince said hoarsely, as he reached for her hand, then kissed it.

"You don't need to thank me, Your Highness. Just a word of caution, however. In future, it is best not to speak until you have swallowed your food." Isabelle said, modestly.

Prince John nodded, then reached for his goblet of wine, still standing behind his chair, and shaken from the incident.

"My dearest? Where did you learn that?" Robert asked as he seated himself.

"I saw a medicus perform it once. I paid close attention then, curious to see if it would work, and it did. So, I decided I must attempt it now. What else could we have done?" Isabelle explained.

"How very fortunate, indeed." Guy smiled.

"I'll say!" Meridwyn agreed. She exhaled a sigh of relief.

"Your Highness? Are you alright? How about some water?" Nottingham suggested.

"No. I'm fine. I'll just finish the wine, and then perhaps I should be on my way." the Prince said, embarrassed by what had just happened.

"Understandable, Your Highness." Nottingham said.

"I know you wanted me to meet with some of your men, so I shall come by on the morrow." a beat. "Let's make it afternoon since the morning might not work too well for me." he said with his eyebrow quirked, knowingly.

"That will be fine, Your Highness." Nottingham smiled.

"Good." Prince John said as he took a cautious sip of the wine. "After that, you shall see me on the day of the ceremony. Unless, you'd like to join me on a stag hunt? Or perhaps us men could enjoy a game of backgammon sometime?"

"Very well. I'll review my schedule. We have a few pressing matters needing attention, Your Highness." the Sheriff said.

Within a short time after the Prince left, the Sheriff returned to the Dining Hall after seeing him to his carriage. The men gathered near to the doors still holding their goblets of libations, and the ladies stayed seated at the table, gathered at one end of it.

"I must say, Isabelle, you and Robert look darling in your matching garments." Meridwyn smiled.

"Yes. Where did Robert have the doublet and breeches hiding?" Rhiannon asked, curiously.

"Your betrothed gave them to him, Rhiannon. Said he hasn't worn them for years because he prefers to wear black." Isabelle stated, simply.

"Interesting. When was that?"

"Earlier today. After the meeting when he asked Robert to be his Adviser. Robert said it was suggested he wear them this evening. Then, my husband told me I should wear one of the gowns you gave to me. I think Robert knew about the Prince coming, but he didn't tell me." Isabelle explained.

"I see. A little strange, but lately, not surprising." Rhiannon muttered.

"The whole evening was certainly strange, truthfully." Meridwyn remarked.

"You would have to remind me." Rhiannon sighed.

"Thank Heavens for you, Isabelle! Such an invaluable tool you learned from that medicus." Meridwyn smiled, proudly.

"Yes. It was the first time I put it to use. Hopefully, I shall never need to implement that again." Isabelle nodded, taking a sip of her wine.

"Maybe if he hadn't been so drunk he wouldn't have flapped his lips so much." Rhiannon added. She exhaled, sharply.

"You sound rather dismayed, Rhi?" Meridwyn remarked with a quirk of her brow.

"Ha! I would have slapped him if he weren't the Prince. Did you hear him? Speaking to me with familiarity as if he'd known me all of my life. How dare he use such endearments toward me!" Rhiannon huffed.

"Yes. It was a little strange." Isabelle nodded.

"I'd be fine if I never had to meet with him again, frankly." Rhiannon said.

"Yet, he will be a guest at your wedding." Meridwyn reminded her.

"Yes. My wedding. Yet, I must endure his ridiculous ego, and unwanted… would you call it overtures?"

"Perhaps. I do agree he was acting overly familiar with you. I'm surprised Milord Sheriff didn't say something to him." Isabelle said.

"Ah, but I think he might have. Right before the man choked, actually." Rhiannon smirked.

"You think?" Meridwyn asked.

"Yes, they were having a muffled conversation while the rest of us were engaged in other topics of discussion. I certainly hope George said something to him!" Rhiannon huffed.

"I'm sure he did, and in a diplomatic manner considering whom he was speaking to." Meridwyn said.

"The man was drunk. Prince, or no Prince, let's just agree on that. I'm hopeful he wouldn't ordinarily behave as such." Isabelle added.

"Like I said, ladies, it wouldn't bother me in the slightest if I never had to lay eyes on him again." Rhiannon stated flatly, as she sipped of water from her goblet. Then, she looked to Isabelle. "So… Isabelle Alyson de Lorris Wordsworth. First I've heard of your middle and maiden names. Very pretty. I like it." she smiled.

"I agree." Meridwyn smiled.

"Thank you, ladies." Isabelle nodded.

"Well, that was probably the most interesting dining experience I've ever been through. Oh… except for that one — " Gisborne was interrupted.

"Indeed." the Sheriff nodded. He knew exactly which night Guy referred to — when Rhiannon was influenced by thorn apple seed and was openly seducing him in front of Guy and Lady Meridwyn. He was compelled to stop Guy from saying any more. He sighed and looked to Robert then. "Thank Zeus for Lady Isabelle, though. She basically saved the man's life, from the looks of it."

"Yes. I was unaware she knew such an invaluable action as that." Robert said.

"Makes me even more grateful she'll be in attendance when my lady needs her in the spring." the Sheriff smiled.

"Indeed, Milord. How fortunate for us all that Lady Isabelle was present." Duke Farnsworth said.

"Speaking of Rhiannon, was it just me or was the Prince acting overly… familiar with my sister?" Robert asked with a quirk of his brow.

"No. Not just you, Robert. Not at all. I think it bothered her, too." Nottingham sighed.

"Indeed. I think I would've been rather annoyed had he acted that way with Meridwyn." Guy added.

"Yes, I'd agree with that. The only women who have ever heard me use such endearments are my sisters, a close cousin, and my late lady wife. I don't know what he was thinking, but it was grossly inappropriate, in my opinion." Duke Farnsworth said.

"Agreed. I did have a word with him about that, especially since it rapidly became obvious how it affected my lady. I don't know how much of that he heard, however, since he was obviously — "

"Drunk? Aye. Luckily, he won't be driving the carriage to Newerche tonight." Guy sighed.

"Regardless, he shall return. Possibly on the morrow. Who of your men shall I round up for that meeting, my Lord Sheriff?" Duke Farnsworth asked.

"Originally, I was planning for just Mordrid, Luke, and Ancel to be present. However, there are many who have performed well the last number of months. Therefore, I suggest the three I mentioned, as well as Drake, Adam, Gerad, Alex, Joseph, and Alistor." Nottingham said.

"Forgive me, my Lord, but who is Alistor? Someone new?" Duke Farnsworth inquired.

"You know the one. I often get his name wrong. Albert, maybe?"

"He means Alfred, Duke." Guy said with a smirk.

"Ah, yes." Duke Farnsworth smiled.

"I'd like for him to meet Richard and Nigel, too. Alas, I don't see how it can be accomplished. They are tasked with a vitally important role at the moment, but I can't think of anyone else to cover for them. There's no way I can take the Prince to Nettlestone to meet with them. He would wonder why they're guarding Guy's manor. Too many people know about my son as it is. I'll be damned if Prince John be included in that exclusive group of people who know ahead of my lady." Nottingham said.

"Understood, my Lord." Duke Farnsworth nodded.

"Indeed. Once she knows she will understand the reason for those who knew before her, but if he was one who knew I think she would be angry. Especially, after his behaviour tonight." Robert added.

"Agreed. And except for Richard and Nigel the only other one I'd like for him to meet is James. But again, he is tasked with the important role of guarding Rhiannon's manor. I don't particularly feel like explaining to the Prince why I have James guarding her manor." the Sheriff said with his eyebrow quirked, knowingly.

"Indeed, Cousin." Guy nodded.

"Also, he need not know about her manor at all." he said, firmly.

"Right. And why is this James fellow guarding my sister's manor, if I may ask?" Robert asked. His eyebrow raised, suspiciously.

"Because of suspicion that her home is the target of an attack." Nottingham replied, slightly evasively.

"I'm sorry… what?" Robert asked as his eyes widened.

"It's… a little complicated, but I've got it covered." Nottingham said.

"Who is targeting Rhiannon's manor? Or are they targeting her?" Robert asked in hushed tones.

"Oh, boy… " Guy sighed.

"Well, that is the thing, Robert. We're not sure, but the threat is there." Nottingham sighed.

"Excuse me? That makes no sen — " Robert started to say.

"Robert, it's not unusual for persons of poor moral character to go after appointed officials, and those closest to appointed officials. We've been dealing with this sort of thing for years, and we've never failed." Duke Farnsworth said quietly to attempt to reassure him.

"I see. So… should I be worried?" Robert asked.

"No. Do not let this information take up too much space in your head. As I said, I've got it covered." Nottingham said.

"I hope you're right." Robert sighed.

"And, no one else needs to know about this." he said, firmly.

"You don't think my sister should be made aware?"

"She is kept here in this castle with a good deal of protection surrounding her. Until I know more, I don't want to burden her with such information. You understand?"

"Alright." Robert sighed. "Yes, I'll concur with that. But I wish I didn't. It feels like… I'm keeping something from her, if you get my meaning." he said, then followed with a sip of wine.

"Right. Like you haven't before?" Nottingham remarked as his eyebrow shot north. He took a sip of brandy and sighed. "It was only a year ago she was held captive. That lasted many months." he said. Then, he looked to the three of them when next he spoke. "None of you shall ever know how hard she had to work to get to the point where she is now — with some semblance of peace."

"Myself and Sir Guy can attest to that, Robert. We were with him when your sister was found. She was in a very bad way. Near dead, in fact." Duke Farnsworth said, quietly.

"Yes. So I've been told." Robert sighed.

"And a lot has happened since that time that further threatened her health and safety. One day I shall tell you about it. Suffice to say, I can't have her feeling threatened, Robert. She is finally in a good place right now. She is content, in very good health, and is surrounded by people who care for her." Nottingham said.

"I see." Robert said. Except, he didn't fully understand. Who was targeting her home? How did no one know who would do such a thing?

"Good. So, you'll keep that information to yourself, I trust?" the Sheriff said, firmly.

"Yes. If you think it's best, I shall go along with it." Robert nodded.

"Good. Oh, and you shall be present at the meeting with the Prince and my men, too."

"Very well." Robert nodded.

It was then the sentry entered into the Dining Hall. The ladies noticed as they were already making their way over to join the men.

The Sheriff regarded him with a quirk of his brow.

"Milord Sheriff, forgive me for interrupting."

"What is it?"

"There's someone who has requested a meeting with you." the sentry announced.

"Right. And whom would that be?"

"A lady, Milord. She is in the Council Quarters. I don't know her. Never seen her in the Village before." the guard shrugged.

"Maybe it's another consort?" Guy muttered.

"No, Sir Gisborne. She is not from the brothel. In fact, I don't think she's from anywhere around here at all." the sentry said.

"Fine." the Sheriff huffed. "I shall be there soon." he said, dismissing the guard.

"Wonder what that's about?" Duke Farnsworth pondered aloud.

"I don't honestly know." the Sheriff replied. He looked to Meridwyn then. "Forgive me, Meridwyn. I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to need my right hand man to join me in the Council Quarters."

"Of course. Not like this is anything new. I'm sure Rhiannon and I can occupy ourselves." she said. Then, she turned to Rhiannon and winked.

Rhiannon smiled at her, then looked to her brother.

"Can we borrow your lady wife for a bit, Brother?"

"Of course. Who am I to prevent you ladies from spending time together?" Robert smirked.

"You're catching on fast!" Meridwyn chuckled.

"I shall be nearby should you need me, Milord Sheriff." Duke Farnsworth said.

"Thank you, Duke." he nodded. Then, he looked to Guy. "Come, Gis. Zeus only knows what this is about, but we best get whatever it is out of the way."

Guy nodded and the two of them left together, their shiny black boots clicking in time together, confidently on the marble floor.

A short time later, both men entered into the Council Quarters and gave each other knowing looks after noticing the tall, slender, beautiful raven haired lady standing before them with one of the Sheriff's men beside her. The Sheriff dismissed the sentry and they focused their attention on the comely stranger.

She was the first to speak, obviously undeterred by them and their positions.

"Thank you for seeing me in a most unexpected manner, Milords. Alas, I had no other choice but to appeal to you with my concerns." the lady said, confidently.

"Yes. Well, I am the Sheriff, and this is my Lieutenant, Sir Gisborne." he said, nodding beside him toward Guy. "And whom might you be? I've… never seen you before now." Nottingham said as his amber hazel eyes narrowed upon her.

In truth, there was something about her that gave him pause. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he was working on it.

"I am… Lady Gisela. I come from Derbyshire." she said with a nod.

"Interesting. And how may we be of assistance, Milady? Surely, it would be more appropriate to address whatever concerns you have with your own Sheriff?" he pointed out.

"Not in this case, Milord." she said.

"Enlighten me, then, Milady." the Sheriff said, firmly.

"I am here about my niece. She has been residing in the town of Nottingham for some time now. Funny thing about that, though." she said as she tilted her head and quirked a brow over her caramel coloured eyes, perfectly framed by long dark lashes.

"And what is that?" Guy asked, impatiently.

"It turns out my niece is missing. Imagine my surprise?"

"Really. For how long, Milady?" the Sheriff asked.

"Four days, apparently." she replied. She pursed her lips and shook her head.

"I see." he nodded.

Surely, she couldn't be related to Celestria, could she? Nottingham sighed. Who else could this woman be referring to? And what was it about her that seemed almost familiar? As if he'd known someone who looked like her once? He was trying to think back, but he'd never met a woman named Gisela. He knew he would remember a name like that. It was too unique to forget.

"Perhaps if you described her and gave us a name it would assist us, Milady." Guy said.

"My niece is named Celestria. I regret to say that she was employed at the brothel, much to the chagrin of her family back home. I think she was tired of the bother of helping with household duties and caring for her younger siblings." a beat. "She's a free spirit. Free spirits cannot be chained." the comely lady stated, confidently.

Both men nodded. Nottingham thought of his lady. She was another such free spirited lady. He also suspected that Lady Gisela was speaking of herself as much as her supposed niece.

"No doubt. Can you describe her?" Nottingham asked. He had to keep playing the game, acting as if he'd never heard the name before now. He also had a few suspicions about this woman before him, but he would wait for some confirmation.

"She kind of looks like me, actually; except she's shorter with blue eyes. And obviously younger, too." the lady smirked and winked at them both.

"Have you tried the rooming houses in the vicinity? Or the Inn?" Nottingham asked.

"No. I've only just arrived this afternoon, Milord. I'm dissatisfied with the paltry effort — if you could call it an effort at all — by the Madam with her search. She reported that she sent some men to look for my niece, but I have serious doubts about the woman's sincerity. And if she is being sincere, I have major doubts about the character of these men sent on the search. You understand?" the pretty raven haired said.

"I see." he sighed, softly.

"What about churches in the area?" Guy asked her.

Nottingham shot a stern look at him just then.

"My niece isn't exactly the type to be lurking about churches, Sir Gisborne. I can think of no reason she'd step foot in one — unless… she needed to seek sanctuary?" the lady said with a suspicious quirk of her brow.

"Right." Nottingham said, flatly.

"My Goddess, you're a man of few words, aren't you, dear Sheriff? A man with such a… notorious reputation, and you've hardly said a word. Now, why is that, do you think?" she boldly asked as she moved in closer to him, testing him.

And there it was. Confirmation. There was only one manner of individual he'd ever witnessed use the term "Goddess." Could she be a heretic?

As he looked into her caramel eyes, and saw the corners of her lips upturn in a smirk, the Sheriff squinted his eyes as he studied her a moment.

Why do I feel it in my gut that I've seen those eyes and that sardonic smirk before? When? I'd remember a woman like her, wouldn't I? It's like she's very much like… someone that I used to know. But… whom?

The Sheriff quickly regained composure and gave a reply.

"I'm a man in possession of a fine vocabulary — when the situation calls for it." he said as his eyebrow shot north.

"Now, that's the most you've spoken at one time since we met." the lady said with a smirk.

"Indeed." he sneered.

"Let's backtrack a moment, shall we? Why the suggestion to haunt the local churches in search of my niece, Milords?" she pressed them. "Has my niece performed some misdeed that would warrant her to seek sanctuary in a place she would loathe — because she needed protection from you?" she asked them, brazenly.

"Now, wait just a min — " the Sheriff was interrupted.

"Madam, I only suggested it because a nearby church would be a logical choice if… she were hurt." Guy said, smoothly. After a moment, he shifted in discomfiture and looked downcast.

"I suppose. You sure neither of you would know anything about her whereabouts?" the lady pressed.

"Very sure, Milady." Nottingham said, evenly.

"I knew nothing of this before now." Guy lied.

"Well, that's too bad. Perhaps now you could do something about it, then?"

"Yes, I suppose we could." Nottingham lied. Then, he folded his arms and narrowed his eyes on hers as he slowly moved in closer. "You see, here's my problem with your story: Are you really related to this consort you say is missing? Why you? Why aren't her parents here to plead their case?"

"They have younger children to look after. I don't have such societal constraints to hold me back, Milord. No husband. No children. Just the way I like it." the comely stranger said softly, while maintaining his gaze.

"Interesting." he said. "You do know whom you're speaking to, don't you? Who do you think you are, coming into my castle making demands?" he asked in a louder volume.

"A concerned aunt, wondering what could have possibly happened to her niece." she replied, unfazed by his tone.

"Yes, so you say. Have you considered that she may have headed back to her hometown?" he suggested.

"She had already visited there recently. Unless she was in some kind of trouble, I have doubts she'd return so soon." the raven haired lady replied, confidently.

"Did you see her then?" Nottingham asked.

"Naturally, Milord. She is my niece." she said, simply.

"Yes. And where can we find you should we locate your niece, Milady?" Nottingham asked.

"I'll be around." she remarked, evasively.

"At the Inn?" Guy asked.

"I can take care of myself." she muttered.

"Ah. I see. So, this is a: "Don't come to me, I'll come to you" situation." Nottingham said as he hooked the first two fingers of each of his hands in the air around the phrase.

"You could say that." she said.

"Right. And how do I know you're not a heretic?" he asked, evenly.

Guy looked at him curiously just then.

"Milord?" she asked, coyly.

The lady was slightly unnerved when he said it and wondered what is was about her that prompted him to ask? She needed to be careful with him. She was aware he was ruthless and calculating.

"You mentioned a Goddess earlier. Nobody says such things out loud, Milady. Don't play coy with me. It never works." the Sheriff warned.

"Like my niece, I don't subscribe to traditional religious teachings. Except, I don't think she believes in anything at all. However, I choose to believe my deity is a woman." she paused a moment while she maintained eye contact with him before continuing. "Now, you don't strike me as the sort of man who is devout, either. Is it really that unusual that you're not alone in that line of thinking?"

"You presume too much. You presume to know me. You do not." Nottingham said firmly, as he moved in closer.

"Forgive me for overstepping then, Milord."

"Right. We will see what we can glean about your niece's whereabouts." he said.

"Thank you, Milord Sheriff. I'm most grateful." she nodded.

He nodded and dismissed her.

After the door had closed Guy looked to the Sheriff.

"Do you think she's a witch, Cousin?"

"I have my suspicions. Who says that — "My Goddess"? Nobody says that, Gis. Not even Mortianna has ever used the term!"

"You often mention Zeus — "

"Never in the company of those I distrust, and certainly not in the presence of strangers. See the difference, Gis?" he seethed as his eyebrow shot north.

"Why not detain her, then? If you're strongly suspicious, then why let her go?" Guy pointed out to him.

"Did you see how confident and brazen she was with us? She's going to slip up. I have no proof as yet, only suspicion. When I have proof, she will be dealt with." the Sheriff said.

"Do you believe she's really related to the consort?" Guy asked.

"Not in the slightest." he said, evenly. "She wants something, though — besides that supposed niece of hers. She implied she won't be staying anywhere… usual. What's she going to do? Pitch a tent somewhere? If she's planning to camp out somewhere, then her Goddess had better help her. She's given me no reason to hold her or have her followed — yet. But, we will be vigilant. You and I, and the men." Nottingham said, firmly.

"Very well. As you wish, Cousin." Guy nodded.

The Sheriff decided now wasn't the time to disclose to Guy that there was something about this Lady Gisela woman that reminded him of someone. He needed to ponder it some more on his own. It had to be someone from long past. Once he could piece it together, then he might mention it.

Mortianna was outside the castle, holding a basket of flowering plants, not far from the gardens while heading to the rear entrance when she was startled by a beautiful stranger. The lady, who was shrouded in her fine emerald green velvet cape, stood about six feet in front of her, blocking her path, and observing her closely. Mortianna thought the lady looked oddly familiar, but she couldn't place her straightaway.

"Are you lost, Miss?" Mortianna asked. She held the basket close to her body.

"Do I look lost, Madam?" the raven haired lady asked.

"Answering a question with a question is… questionable, to say the least." Mortianna said as she stood firm with the stranger before her.

"I am not lost, Madam. I've just met with the Sheriff. However, you appear to be the one who is lost."

"Not at all. My quarters are inside the castle." the witch said.

"Are they, now? Fascinating. For I know a witch when I see one." the lady remarked with a knowing quirk of her brow.

"Ye know not of how I serve the Sheriff. I belong here. Ye do not. We are in back of the castle. Ye have no business here, Milady." Mortianna said as she proceeded to move past her.

"Right. So, what are you doing with nightshade in your basket if you are not a witch?" the lady asked firmly as she took hold of the witch's right arm, stopping her in her tracks.

"What makes you think it is nightshade?" Mortianna asked. She tried to wrestle her arm free, but the lady exerted a firmer grasp.

"Now who's answering a question with a question?" a beat. "Simple. The distinctive white flowers shaped like pentacles, which only open after dark. Nobody would be seen dead with it during daylight hours, either. Oh, and you're wearing gloves. Smart." the lady said, confidently.

Mortianna quirked her brow and looked up at the woman, curiously.

"What are you doing here in back of the castle? Ye have no business here. What do ye want?" the witch demanded.

She fervently wished she could place this woman. Mortianna could swear she had seen her before, but where? How? It was starting to unsettle her, and she hoped she could enjoy a soothing, steaming cup of batwing tea — imminently.

"I'm a creature of the night, as I suspect you are, Madam. I could smell the flowers in the air. Roses, in fact. It's rather late in the season for them, so, I let my senses direct me. My senses are keen. I just followed the fragrance. There's a light rain now, and scents tend to linger in moist air. Wouldn't you agree?" the lady smirked.

"I suppose, but that still doesn't explain to me why ye would bother at all? Ye are on the Sheriff of Nottingham's property. He doesn't take too kindly to trespassers. Ye should go now, before his men see you about!" Mortianna urged her.

"What are you going to do? Tell him? That's funny — coming from the old crone carrying a basket of nightshade. Belladonna. The Devil's root. Just perfectly ripe for the potion brewing, correct? What are you planning to do with that? Kill the Sheriff?" the lady taunted, clicking her tongue against her palate a few beats.

"I am faithful to him. There's a lot more the plant can do than offer up poison." Mortianna said, firmly.

"I can't imagine — your loyalty to him, nor the other uses for belladonna. Please! You're obviously aware it's highly poisonous. You knew enough to wear gloves."

"As are you, lady! Now, kindly release my arm!" Mortianna implored her.

"No. Not until you tell me your price."

"What? What in the universe are you nattering about?" the witch demanded.

"How much to buy some belladonna from you? I can pay." the lady smirked.

"I will not sell any of this plant to anyone, least of all, you, Witch. For I know ye are a witch. Ye cannot argue against it." Mortianna said, firmly.

"I can pay you rather well. From the looks of that outdated gown you're wearing under that old cape, you could use the gold." the woman scoffed.

"Madam, I don't know who in the devil ye are, but take your hand from my arm this very instant. Now!" Mortianna shrieked.

"Excuse me, ladies? What is going on here?" Luke demanded, suddenly startling them as they did not hear him approach.

Luke was in the middle of doing his routine patrols around the castle. An extra measure of security he devised himself. He was yet to tell the Sheriff about this.

It was then that the raven haired lady took her hand from Mortianna's arm.

"You know me, Officer Luke. This lady, however, is a stranger. She is trespassing and, I dare say, has demonstrated herself to be a threat." Mortianna said. She was relieved he was present. She was beginning to wonder about the stranger's intentions before he arrived on the scene.

Luke nodded reassuringly at her, then directed his attention to the dark haired stranger.

"I know you. You really laid on the charm not that long ago at the portcullis, saying you had an urgent matter to discuss with the Sheriff, despite the warnings from myself and my comrades that His Lordship doesn't meet with private citizens at such a late hour." a beat. "You have no business wandering the grounds — meeting, or no meeting with him." Luke warned the lady.

"Forgive me, Sir. Yes. You're right. I was… misguided." she said with a smile.

"Come, Milady. I shall personally see you to your horse." Luke said as he gently took hold of her arm.

"Very well." the lady relented with a sigh.

Luke nodded to Mortianna before he led the lady away.

Mortianna breathed in a heavy sigh, and then shuddered. Something about that woman haunted her. She could also tell the woman was a witch. The way she described the flowers on the plant, her knowledge of it, too. Ordinary people wouldn't know, nor describe it as such. Ordinary people would characterize the flowers as being shaped like stars, not pentacles.

Mortianna was a bit surprised that Luke didn't march the lady directly back into the castle to answer to Milord Sheriff. She surmised that perhaps Luke couldn't see that the woman was holding her arm. Indeed. The woman was close to her, firmly holding her right arm, and Luke approached from Mortianna's left. Curses! Now, she is being set free, and who knows what else the lady would try?

Mortianna hurried inside. She would speak to the Sheriff about this. First, she was going to sit and enjoy a good strong cup of batwing tea, then contemplate where she had seen the raven haired witch before. Her strong sense of foreboding was telling her she had better drink the tea straightaway, and think fast. She must speak to her Sheriff, and it had to be tonight.