Chapter 2: The Agreement

It had happened so fast.

The night had started out well enough. Father and Mother had decided against a public supper, choosing to sup in their rooms. Robin had joined them, happy not to worry about looking prim and proper as everyone watched his every bite. He lounged in his seat, sipping his wine as his parents teased each other lovingly. Father leaned over to take her hand, rubbing his thumb back on forth against her skin as he whispered something low to her.

Robin smiled at the sight. He always admired his parents' marriage and how strong their love was. Sherwood's laws and traditions meant that love matches like theirs were commonplace but living at court meant Robin had seen his share of marriages of convenience, meant only to advance the families and nothing more. Whispers of illicit affairs echoed through their gossip-loving court but none were ever about his parents because there was nothing to whisper about and not just because it would be treason.

He wanted a love like theirs but no one at court had caught his attention yet. There were several ladies around his age, all of whom were beautiful and nice enough but he never clicked with any of them. No one enticed him to want to spend every waking moment with her, to want to share every aspect of his life with her. But he knew she was out there and he would find her one day.

A servant entered and approached Father, a sealed letter in his hand. "This just arrived bearing Lord Christopher's seal. I apologize for the intrusion but…"

"Nonsense. You are doing just as I asked, thank you." Father took the letter and sent the man to have his own supper.

Robin was eager to hear what his uncle had to report. Sherwood was a very insulated kingdom with centuries of an isolationist mindset. However, it had been growing more apparent to her rulers that they needed to reach outside Sherwood's borders if the kingdom was to continue to thrive. They would be able to establish better trade routes and bring in new products for the people. It would also help when the Ogre War inevitably came to Sherwood and more protection would be needed.

Breaking the seal, Father scanned the letter and smiled. "Christopher has met with King Leopold and reports he is amenably to improving relations with Sherwood."

"That's good news," Mother said, smiling. "Everything may go easier than we thought."

Robin had to agree, sipping his wine again. "What type of treaty do you think Uncle Christopher will work out with King Leopold?"

"I am not certain. But I trust my brother's instincts." Father set the letter down. "Now, Robin, tell me, how did the troop inspection go this morning?"

"It went well, Father. They ran their drills and are the epitome of military perfection. Our generals should be commended," Robin replied, recalling their archers releasing their arrows in unison.

Mother gave him a knowing look. "I heard you may have challenged some of our archers after inspection."

Robin ducked his head, sheepish, though he smiled. "Yes, I did. I couldn't help myself."

"Well, how did you do?" Father asked.

"I beat them all," Robin replied, puffing out his chest with pride. "And no, I don't think they went easy on me just because I will be their king one day."

Father laughed, banging his hand on the table. Robin smiled until his father started gasping, clutching at his chest. His face grew gray and he seemed to struggle for every breath.

Robin jumped up. "Father? Father, what's wrong?"

"Edward?" Mother also stood, leaning over her husband. "Edward, can you speak to me?"

When Father didn't respond, she turned to Robin. "Send for the physician and hurry, Robin!"

After that, it was a blur. Servants and nobles alike poured into their chambers as the physician examined Father. The older man straightened up and whispered something to Mother. Robin watched as she fell to her knees beside Father, who had been left on the floor for fear of moving him. She let out an unearthly shriek that chilled Robin to the bone and stopped his heart. He was pushed toward his father as the Abbot arrived, dressed in his long brown robes and carrying the sacred oils.

The Abbot recited the last prayers as the color left Father's face. His lips started to turn blue and he was staring into nothing, it seemed. Mother clutched onto Robin, sobbing as this happened. He had seen death before—animals killed as well as sick villagers he tended to when he could sneak away. But this was different. This was his father. Father couldn't die.

Father reached out to Robin and he took the man's hand, holding to close. "You're going to be fine," he told him.

"I'm proud of you, son," Father gasped out. "You will be a good king, I know it. I love you."

"I love you too, Father, but save your breath. You need to recover," Robin said, tears pricking at his eyes as the truth began to sink in.

Mother knelt next to him and Father realized Robin's hand to take hers. "Catherine, my love. Thank you so much for the love, joy and light you brought into my life. Take care of our son. He's going to need your guidance."

"I will, Edward. I love you so much," she sobbed. "Don't leave me."

Father smiled. "I wish I could obey, my love. I will see you again."

The light faded from his eyes and his chest stopped rising as his hand fell limp to the floor. Someone pulled Robin up before shouting: "The king is dead! Long live the king!"

Robin looked around, finding everyone kneeling as they looked up at him. He was the king. The kingdom now looked to him for guidance.

The Great Being help him.

Father was laid out in the monastery built on the royal grounds. The friars kept a constant vigil as they waited for nobles and dignitaries to arrive in Locksley, Sherwood's chief city. It was named for Robin's family, who founded the city and the country centuries ago according to legend when his however great-grandfather heard a message from the heavens instructing him to build a monastery in the spot where the palace now stood. From there, a whole country sprung up as people flocked to the wisdom and healing of the friars the legends said.

Robin stood outside the ancient stone structure with its tiny openings for windows, smoke rising from the chimney. He could hear the friars' chanting and recalled all the times he would get in trouble because their singing had lulled him to sleep during services. Now, though, it squeezed his heart as he knew they were singing for his father.

The door opened and one of the friars stepped out. It was an older man with a round stomach and gray beard, wearing the coarse brown habit and white rope cinch of the friars. He approached Robin, bowing before him. "My condolences, Your Majesty."

"No," Robin said, snapping out of his fugue. "There is no need for such formalities between us, Tuck. I am still Robin to my favorite tutor."

Tuck nodded, hugging him. "You will be a great king, just like your father."

"I'm not prepared. We weren't done with my education," Robin whispered.

"Your education will never be over. But I'll be by your side as will your mother. And whoever the lucky lady you marry is."

Robin pulled away, shaking his head. "I can't even begin to think of marriage. I can't even begin to think of myself as a king."

"Understandable. Do you wish to talk about it?" Tuck motioned toward the gardens. "We can go for a walk and I can counsel you."

"Thank you, Tuck, but not today. Words fail me."

Tuck clapped him on the shoulder. "Of course. When you find them again, you know where I will be."

Robin nodded before heading toward the door. With a deep breath, he pulled it open and slipped inside.

It was dark inside the chapel with the sweet smell of incense filling the air. Smoke curled around the room, illuminated by the candles surrounding his father's body. Robin approached the dais as a heavy weight settled in his stomach.

Mother had chosen the outfit Father was to be buried in and had brushed his gray hair herself. He wore a gold brocade coat over a white silk shirt with ruffles at the collar. Black leather pants covered his legs and were tucked into his polished black boots. A golden scepter had been placed in his hands and his crown rested on his chest. The ceremonial sword Father had worn at his coronation was placed at his side.

Several rings had been placed on his fingers. They would be removed after the funeral and before the burial, returned to the royal treasury to await Robin's coronation. Especially the emerald signet ring which had been worn by every monarch of Sherwood. Robin had longed for the day when he could wear it and now wished it had never come.

The only ring that wouldn't be taken off would be his wedding band. Father had specifically ordered to be buried in it, believing he would be married to Mother even in the Afterlife. Robin thought it very romantic and wondered if he would feel the same about his wife, whoever she would be.

At last, Robin forced himself to look at Father's face. His eyes were closed and it almost looked like he was smiling. If Robin hadn't known better, he would've thought the man merely asleep. Oh, how he wished he was just sleeping.

"I miss you, Father. I'm not ready to lead our people. There was so much more I needed you to teach me. How am I to be king?" he asked softly.

"You will be a great king," Mother said, stepping next to him. She curled her hand around Father's stiff arm. "He had great faith in you and I know you will prove it wasn't unfounded."

Robin swallowed. "I wish I had an ounce of the confidence you have."

"You do," she told him. "It's natural to be afraid. You have a great burden upon your shoulders. But hold your head high and don't let the others see the fear, and you'll be fine."

Mother looked back at Father and Robin saw a tear run down her cheek. He took her hands, remembering that this was the second time she had been widowed in her life. "How are you, Mother? Are you sleeping? Eating?"

"Yes to both," she replied with a dry chuckle. "You sounded just like your father there. And as to your first question, I'm holding on. I miss him and I always will, but I know he wanted us to go on. So we will do that."

Robin nodded, holding his arm out to her. "Shall I escort you back to our rooms?"

She shook her head. "You go. I want a few more minutes alone with your father."

"Of course. I'll see you at supper." He bowed to his father's body before leaving the chapel, taking a deep breath of fresh air. It cleared out the incense smoke he had breathed and seemed to wake him up, as if he had been asleep.

Unfortunately, his father was still dead and he was still to become king, lost in this world.

Father was finally buried a week after his passing. Most of the nobles and dignitaries made it to Locksley by then. Uncle Christopher rode in the night before the funeral, tired but relieved to have made it in time. Aunt Eleanor had met her surviving brother and made certain he ate, bathed and rested after such a long journey and Robin was glad to have the one person who looked the most like his father back at court.

The funeral was held in the large cathedral in the center of Locksley, which had been built in gratitude to the Great Being after Sherwood won some war. Robin's history tutor had been a man who tended to drone on and he often found his attention wandering during those lectures. It had resulted in bruised knuckles from a rapping more than not.

Robin preferred the small, intimate chapel in the monastery to the Grand Cathedral. It was a voluminous structure, even greater than the main building of the palace. Though it boasted many large windows, many stained glasses that colored the sunbeams as they fell onto the pews, it seemed cold and impersonal. But it could fit all the people who had come to mourn Father, so that was where the ceremony was to be held.

Uncles Christopher and Joseph met him at the stables the morning of the funeral. All three wore black satin doublets and black breeches. Robin had a sash of gold strapped across his chest and gold coronet had been placed on his head before he left his room. His two uncles bowed to him and he shook his head. "Please. You're family. No need for such pomp," he told them.

"You sounded just like your father there," Uncle Christopher replied, chuckling before growing somber. "I can't believe he's gone."

Uncle Joseph nodded. "He was so full of life. To think it was just snuffed out so fast…"

"You will be with us a long time," Robin told him. Uncle Joseph had been Father's best friend long before Aunt Eleanor's husband and he knew the man must be facing his own mortality. He gave his uncle a small smile. "That is an order from your king."

"Then I will obey." Uncle Joseph gave him a mock bow.

Uncle Christopher chuckled again. "Alright, you two. Let's get our horses and get ready to lead the funeral procession. Today is going to be a long day."

Robin nodded, opening the stall door to his black stallion, Outlaw. He guided the creature out to be tacked and saddled, a stable boy darting forward to do that. "I've got it, Your Majesty," he squeaked, knees shaking. "I apologize for my delay."

"No need to apologize. My father tacked his own horse and I can do the same. But thank you anyway." Robin bowed to the boy.

His eyes went wide and he squeaked out a thanks before scurrying off. Robin sighed as he continued to prepare Outlaw, who pawed at the ground. "You feel the tension, don't you? All the sadness in the air," Robin murmured to the beast. "Me too."

Once Outlaw was ready, he rode out to join the funeral procession as it started to form in the courtyard. He rode up against the golden carriage carrying Mother and Aunt Eleanor, both dressed in black satin gowns with lace covering their faces. "Are you two comfortable?" he asked them.

"As comfortable as can be," Aunt Eleanor replied, reaching out a gloved hand. "You best head up to the front."

"Take care of your father," Mother croaked, voice hoarse from another night of crying. It broke Robin's heart and all he could do was nod.

He urged Outlaw forward, passing the carriage with his father's coffin on it. Flowers surrounded it, adding a pop of color to the drab procession. Robin swallowed his tears, knowing he had to show a brave face to his mourning subjects. It wouldn't do for their first glimpse of their new king to be one where he had tears running down his cheeks and red puffy eyes.

Robin took his place between Uncle Christopher and Uncle Joseph at the head of the guards. He gave a nod to the servant manning the gates, watching as the iron bars began to swing forward. Taking a deep breath, Robin began to move forward on Outlaw and began to the procession to the Great Cathedral.

People dressed in blacks and grays lined the road. They bowed their heads as the procession road past and Robin heard sniffling coming from most people. Father had been loved, though he never met most of these people. Robin hoped he could achieve the same and not ruin the legacy left to him.

The fire was the only light in his room as Robin sagged in an armchair, a glass of whiskey in hand. Father had favored brandy but he preferred the drink introduced to him in some of pubs of Locksley. He took a long sip, feeling the amber liquid burning as it flowed down his throat. Robin's coronation was still a few weeks away to give the kingdom a proper mourning period but his work as king had already started.

His father's council had descended upon the day after the funeral, insisting that there were several issues that needed his attention. Robin soon learned that most of the issues were personal matters the nobles on the council wanted resolved in their favor—land disputes, business agreements, and the like. After nearly a week listening to their complaints, he had exploded that afternoon. "I am not just here to solve your own personal grievances! Tomorrow, I expect to hear actual concerns regarding my kingdom and my subjects. Do I make myself clear?"

"Your Majesty," started the Duke of Ellis, "are we not your subjects?"

Robin gritted his teeth. "I mean my subjects who cannot afford the same luxuries as you and require us to make sure their needs are met."

"But if you meet our needs, then surely we can meet theirs?" Ellis leaned forward, hands clasped.

"I may be young, Lord Ellis, but I am not a fool," Robin said, his words measured. "I know any good fortune you achieve will not be shared with the people who call Ellis home. My father worked to change that and I assure you I will continue in his steed. I am warning all of you. Anyone who disagrees is welcomed to leave tonight."

He had ended the meeting after that and retreated to the training fields, working off his aggravation with his bow. Robin doubted any of them would leave and believed they still saw him as someone they could mold into the ruler they wanted, not the king Sherwood needed. They had long had such a strong hold on Sherwood, they were choking it to death. His father had worked to loosen their grip and Robin vowed to get them to relinquish it entirely.

"Why, nephew, are you sitting in the dark?" Uncle Christopher asked as he entered the room.

"To help with the pounding behind my eyes," Robin replied. "Tell me. Did Father suffer headaches after dealing with the council?"

"He did. And he used similar medication." His uncle hovered between the door and the chair Robin was slumped in. "If you want, I can discuss this another time."

Robin shook his head, sitting up straight. "We should discuss this now. I feel it's best that you remain our ambassador to Mist Haven. You have cultivated relationships there and I trust you."

"Thank you." Uncle Christopher sank into the chair next to him. "King Leopold and I have agreed on a way to strengthen our ties. A marriage contract."

"So I am to marry the princess of Mist Haven? Splendid," Robin deadpanned before taking a gulp of whiskey.

Uncle Christopher hesitated. "Not quite. Princess Snow White is only ten. There is another lady the king has in mind. Her name is Regina and she is the granddaughter of King Xavier of Basque."

"Yet she is from Mist Haven?"

"I'm not certain of the circumstances which brought Prince Henry to Mist Haven. I know he is King Xavier's youngest son…" Uncle Christopher trailed off before shaking his head. "That is not important. What is important is that Lady Regina has been groomed to be queen and she is of marrying age."

Robin set his glass down. He had seen his fair share of daughters groomed to be queen as every noblewoman near his age had been prepared to possibly one day be his wife. They, though, had been taught the wrong things—how to indulge in idle gossip, dress lavishly, spend money like it was nothing and worst of all, care for no one but themselves. He wanted a wife who could debate him, challenge him, who cared more for the good she could do as queen rather than the good it could do for her.

He kept his expression and tone neutral as he asked: "What connection, then, does she have to King Leopold?"

"She rescued his daughter. The princess' horse was spooked and raced off with her. Lady Regina rode after them, pulling the girl to safety," he explained. "Full of gratitude, King Leopold proposed and Lady Regina's mother accepted on her behalf. The king soon realized, though, that Lady Regina was less than thrilled with the arrangement."

That piqued Robin's interest. A woman groomed to be queen balking at the chance to become one? It seemed odd. "What was her reasoning?"

"Age. Leopold is near sixty while Lady Regina just turned eighteen this past February. But the lady grew the most passionate when she spoke of not being some trophy for Leopold to parade around, ardent about not being a mere bauble for him."

"She said that?" Robin asked.

His uncle paused. "She may have used the words 'trinket and 'doll.' I confess I was eavesdropping on a private conversation between the lady and her father. And a storm had kicked up some powerful winds."

Robin knew he should comment on his uncle's snooping but he was too intrigued by this Lady Regina to do so. "Have you met her ladyship?" he asked.

"I have. She is a pleasant, intelligent and well-spoken young woman with a fire burning inside her. It is being suppressed by a domineering mother who I believe is the one who wants Lady Regina to be queen."

"And what does Lady Regina want?"

"Freedom," Uncle Christopher replied, "and love."

This woman he had never met seemed more human to Robin than the ones he had grown up with at court. He leaned back, deep in thought. No one in Sherwood had yet to entice him, except for a few dalliances here or there. Perhaps it was a sign that his wife was to come from outside the kingdom. Maybe the Great Being had already selected Lady Regina to be his bride. "I know you have a lot to thank about," Uncle Christopher said, voice low. He stood, pulling a small package from his breast pocket. "This is a letter she wrote you and a miniature Leopold had commissioned upon their betrothal. It is a good likeness, though the artist failed to capture the determination in her eyes. Meditate on these and make your choice. Though I will add that they lady has one condition."

"Which is?"

"If she can get her father to leave her mother, she would like him to live here with her."

"I shall take it under consideration," he replied. Another thought struck him as his uncle headed for the door. "Do you think she it was the princess on the runaway horse?"

His uncle paused, shaking his head. "I believe she only saw a frightened young girl who needed help."

Once Uncle Christopher left, Robin opened the package. He ignored the letter, deciding to read it in the morning. Instead, he picked up the miniature and took it over to the fire to get a better look at Lady Regina.

She was a stark contrast to the women of Sherwood. Her dark curls brushed her olive skin, no doubt from her Basque blood. Light brown eyes, almost amber like the whiskey he favored, gazed back at him. The painter had painted her pink lips into a soft smile.

Regina was a beautiful woman. He found himself drawn to her the more he stared at her image. Could he spend the rest of his life with her? Would they be happy like his parents?

He downed the last of his whiskey before heading to bed. A good night's rest was certainly needed, he decided as he placed the miniature on his nightstand. He changed into his nightshirt and climbed into his soft bed. As he blew out his candle, he glanced down at the miniature and whispered: "Good night, Regina."

Dear Robert,

It took me a long time to figure out how to start this letter. You are a king and we have never met but at the same time, you could be my future husband. As such, I hope you forgive me my familiarity.

Your uncle no doubt told you about me. I hope he didn't make me sound like some goddess or angel. I don't want to be some perfect being to be worshipped. All I want is for someone to see and love the person I am. To love Regina.

I thought I found that in Daniel, our stable boy. All I wanted to do was run away with him to a small cottage and raise a family with him. He made me feel like I was the only person who mattered and that I could do anything. But for both our sakes', our relationship cannot continue and he is no longer in my life.

This must be strange to write to a man I am considering marrying but I thought it would best help you understand the person I am. My mother wants me to be queen. I just want to be myself. Unfortunately, I am still trying to find out who that is.

Your uncle spoke of how marriages in Sherwood are partnerships and I was drawn to that. I hope we will be partners on our journeys—mine to find myself and yours to being the king your country needs.

I await your decision and hope we shall meet soon.

Yours,

Regina

Robin had memorized every word she had written, her elegant and precise handwriting burned into his mind. He had read them over and over as he debated his options, almost as much as he stared at her portrait. With each passing hour, he was growing more and more infatuated with Lady Regina.

He sat outside the palace, close to the forest he would often escape to for a quiet moment and to avoid being a prince for a few hours. It seemed Regina would be just as happy living amongst the trees as long as she had someone to share her life with. Robin understood that feeling and connected with her over it.

"Robin? Your uncle is almost ready to leave," Mother said, approaching him. She wore a gray dress this day, not as somber as the dresses she had been wearing as of late. He took it as a good sign.

He nodded as he tapped his letter against the palm of his hand. "I guess it's now or never," he said.

"Are you certain you want to do this?" Mother asked, placing her hand on his shoulder. "You can change your mind if you don't think you'll be happy."

Robin swallowed, gathering his thoughts. "I once asked Father when he knew he wanted to marry you. He told me it was not some grand romantic moment but rather a quiet one. You two were having tea together. He said you were reading a book and he was going through some papers. At one point, he glanced up and his heart just knew he wanted to spend his life with you. My heart knows I want to spend mine with Lady Regina."

Mother raised her hand from his shoulder to cup his cheek. "You're a romantic like your father. You need to get that letter to your uncle so that can happen. Come on."

"I'll be right there," he told her. "I just need a minute."

She nodded, walking away. Robin closed his eyes and felt the warm breeze against his face. This was it—it was time for him to face his future. One he hoped was filled with happiness with Lady Regina.

A/N: Thank you all so much for the reaction to the first chapter of this story! I just kept getting alert after alert about it the day I published it and everyone has been so positive. I hope to meet or surpass all your expectations.

I'll admit I wasn't going to include Robin's POV at first though there were a few things I was playing with for a later subplot. When someone on tumblr asked me about it, I then thought, "You know what? Yes, let's hear from Robin too." So here we are. It'll also help me set up exactly what Regina will be walking into, so expect a return to Sherwood in Chapter 4. Next chapter though—back to Mist Haven and Regina.

I hope everyone has a great weekend!

-Mac