Chapter 2: Rain on her parade

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"Took you long enough, daughter." her fathers voice greets her as she comes through the doors of the dinning room. "But I see you took a bath so I will let it slide this ones. At least you look presentable for later."

The urge to roll her eyes was high, but she knew better. Simply saying. "Good morning, father." as she takes a seat opposite to him. Her plate already filled with food. Scrambled eggs, some toast and two small sausages. It almost looked like a face with a crooked smile, mocking her as it stares at her face. "What will be happening later?" she asks her father as she eyes him carefully.

He was writing something, a letter perhaps, ink touching the parchment as the feather hits it. His tea steaming next to him. "I will be giving a speech to my people. Taking about things you do not understand."

There it is again, that urge.

"Alright then father." Dahlia says as she sips her orange juice as her tea is still steaming due to being hot. Her father looks up from his parchment. He narrows his eyes he did not like the tone in her voice. "And why do I need to look presentable for that?"

"Why do you think you foolish girl?" the crack in this voice indicating his anger. "The people expect you to stand by my side. I am your father. What will they think of us? Of me?!"

"I'm sorry, sir."

"No matter. Finish your food, we'll be expected soon." his chair screeches against white tiled floor as he stands. "And leave the sausages. You definitely don't need them. I'll get myself ready. Meet me at the balcony entrance at eleven bells." he leaves before she can even reply but she is happy that he did.

Dahlia finishes her plate in peace. Sipping her tea, buttering her toast and drinking her juice. Slowly her mind wanders back to her fathers words. What things will he be talking about?

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The yellow material of Dahlia's dress flows against her ankles as she walks up the steps that lead to the balcony. The whole point of having the balcony in the first place was when eons ago, years before her father was even born and Nottingham was still a small village, one of the old lords had it build so his wife could reach the apple trees. Now the trees are gone and the ground layered with cobblestone, the balcony used to announce the morning callings, wanted criminals and to make speeches to the people below. Eyeing up to the sheriff, lords and other richer individuals.

Dahlia makes her way to her father just in time to see him put on his long leather coat. His physique a dark contrast against her spring coloured dress. "You walk behind me. Just smile and nod. Don't say anything." Her father instructs her before he walks to the door. She doesn't even have time to respond to him. She hangs her head low as she walks behind him with cautious steps, slight angry fire in her eyes. Here goes nothing.

The sheriff opens the door the the balcony. Stepping outside as the servants hold the door open for her. Dahlia tilts her head up high while she steps over the threshold. She can already feel the eyes of the lords turning her way and taking her in. Well, taking in how her body looks in her dress. All she wants to do is to glare at each and every one of them, but she holds herself strong as she steps closer to the balustrade. The people below locking their eyes on her, But they soon shift to her left as her father steps up beside her, a hand falling on her right shoulder. And that's when the real act begins.

"Good day, good people." her fathers voice rips through the air. It silents every whisper that was spoken. Though her fathers eyes scan the crowd. "Today we face a threat from the barbarians in Arabia."

Dahlia lets the words sink in as her eyes continue to watch the people. All their eyes and ears focused on the words that fall from their sheriff's lips. "They hate us. Our freedom. Our culture. Our religion. But today they face the near enemy which is our crusaders in the desert."

Her eyes turn to her father as she lifts one of the corners of her mouth and nods slightly at his words, until she spots two individuals walking into the crowd. They stand to watch her father speak under the other side of the balcony on her right side. She slowly lifts her hands up to lean on the wood in front of her. She notices that one of them, the darker shinned man on the left, mumbles something softly to the blond man next to him. The blond turns his face to the other man. He looks somewhat familiar to her. She turns her head back to her father as he turns to face her way again. Unbeknownst to her, the blond man looks from the sheriff to her. Gliding his eyes over her red hair that was hanging over her shoulders while two small braids were tied with what he assumed to be a ribbon, behind her to keep the front pieces from falling into her eyes. He quickly turns his eyes back to the sheriff as he speaks up again.

"But tomorrow, and make no mistake about this, they regard us here in Nottingham as the far enemy and they will come here." as the words were spoken, people start to let out their sounds of anger. "They will infiltrate, they will proliferate they will choke our cords and strangle our church, our children, with their fanatical dogma. They'll burn your houses. They'll burn your land." to say he is creating drama, would be an understatement. Dahlia kept her smile hidden. Her face serious yet calm while her fathers words causes anger within his people, the people standing right below them. Green eyes search around the faces of the people. Each and every one looking at her father, even his eyes when she looks back at him. She knew her father was saying this for some greedy reason, she knows him very well after all.

"That's why my war tax bill is so vital." Ah, there it is. "Nottingham isn't just a city. It's the bank and beating heart of our great church and it's glorious crusade. And for everyone of you who shirks his duty by not paying fair share, an archer goes without arrows and a Christian soldier starves."

"Sheriff, my people have already given everything that they have." Her eyes land on the man who has dared to speak up against her father, against his sheriff. The people around him nodding and sounding their agreement. Most of covered in dirt and stained in black due to the coils from the mines. She already knows the lords surrounding her did not care about his words and her eyes shoot a look of sympathy their way. Oh, how she aches to help them.

"I move we send my tax bill to the vote." Her father says as he turns from the man to the lords. Dahlia eyes him carefully, surprised he spoke the words in the first place.

"I second." One of the rich man says, lifting his arm as he does. Of course he seconds.

"The people of Nottingham are dying." Another voice speaks, female this time. Quite bold. "We're beyond the breaking point."

"Young lady, you have no idea what a breaking point is until you've seen combat." And at this dahlia lets out a scoff, she didn't intend to but couldn't help it. Both her fathers and the blond mans eyes turn to her in an instant. The mans eyes her with curious eyes surprised by her bold reaction before he walks away, all the while her father sends daggers her way. And she prays that she will see the sunlight tomorrow.

The woman in the crowd smirks at her reaction."So, how would you know?"

Her father turns her eyes to the woman before turning to look at a man standing on the balcony. "Finance minister, do we have a decision?"

"We do." The mans old voice breaks the silence.

"Uh sir?" Another voice interrupts. Dahlia glances across from her. Tuck comes up to the balustrade and she gives him a small smile. "Uh sir, sheriff. The Loxley vote hasn't been counted."

"Robin of Loxley? What, are we giving votes to ghosts now?" The sheriff nearly scoffs at the holy man infront of him. People around them laughing at the the comment that has been made. Her eyes shoot back to the place the blond man once stood. That's why she recognized the blond man, Robin of Loxley.

"Yes. Uh, no, He's alive, sir. So I hear." Tuck tells her father.

"Alive?" Her fathers voice surprised.

"He was seen today, home from war." Tuck was twitching trying not to show he already knows it's true after seeing him in church.

The sheriff looks down at the people, his people, debating what to do with this information. His hands gripping the railing hard, knuckles turning write. "Who saw him?"

"I'm sorry sir, that falls under the seal of the confessional." Tuck tells him with strong words. Trying to protect this friend.

"So you saw him?" The sheriffs words calculated.

"No, I didn't say... " Tuck starts to stutter and dahlia knows exactly why. He did see Robin. "Could have been anyone... Saw him."

"Well, then the vote must be delayed until the Loxley vote's been counted." The man from before says a he looks at her father then her. His eyes scanning her face before quickly looking back at her fathers grey physique. The people around him once again agreeing with the words he spoke.

"The council meeting is adjourned."

Her eyes search the crowd for Robin, but he is nowhere to be found. So she quickly follows her father inside.

Oh how he was about to rain on her parade.