Nottinghamshire - Castle DeBurgh

When Marian climbed over the rope Robin had attached to the castle wall for her into the castle garden, the sun had long since sunk behind the horizon, and stars twinkled in the night sky. Hastily she slipped into one of the side passages.

Sighing, Marian wiped a strand of hair from her face and slowed her pace a little as she approached the main hall. Prancing firelight radiated from the entrance onto the wall opposite and into the sparsely lit corridor. If she was not mistaken, she had just heard her father's voice?

'You should stop floating in your mind constantly and be more attentive!' Marian scolded herself, pursing her lips sorrowfully.

She just had to get past this hall, down the main corridor, and she could take the servants' stairs up. She had already sneaked away several times and had chosen this way as the safest. The most difficult and risky part was the few meters past the archway of the hall. Her heart urged her to hurry, but a step taken too quickly could be treacherous. So Marian forced herself not to leap past like a rushed deer.

"Marian."

Her name came from the hall as polished as a precisely wielded sword stroke. Immediately she flinched and almost tripped over her own feet.

As Marian stepped out of the shadows into the light, his face contorted momentarily in annoyance. She didn't even get to his reply. "God, girl, how are you dressed again!" Indignantly, he slapped his hand on the wooden board before him and shook his head. "You have a visitor, and you weren't here to receive him properly."

Marian wasn't sure if he was angry or just keeping up appearances. Her attention settled on said visitor rising from the wooden chair, and her stomach tightened.

"Guy," it escaped her, and another sharp look from her father made her hastily lower her head. "Sire," she improved appropriately to at least keep up appearances. "Forgive my behavior and demeanor," she apologized, feeling Guy's gaze like a prickle on the back of her neck. A breath that made one fully aware that one was being watched but not yet able to define precisely whether the breeze had been cold or warm ... or both.

"You need not apologize, my lady," he said as if they were two strangers in a crowded hall full of gawping nobles.

Immediately her pulse picked up, and nervousness spread through her like wildfire. Cautiously, she lifted her eyes slightly and peered under her long lashes at the table to see if the Sheriff was also present.

A hasty relief washed over her when her fear was not realized. But why was Guy here now and today? Surely he had already heard about the robbery. Had the Sheriff sent him? Did he want to check if she was here? Did he suspect something?

"How long do you wish to grace us with your presence, Sir Of Gisborne?" asked Marian. "If you wish to stay a little longer, I will change my clothes and keep you company afterward."Oh, how Marian wished she could see through Guy better. She met his eyes the color of an approaching thunderstorm beneath the raven blackness of his hair, yet she could not guess what was in his mind. He never wavered, his features as mysterious as ever. It sometimes gave him the same unapproachable coldness of his father. And she hated that quality in him.

"You need not apologize," he said at last. "My lord, with your permission, I would like to escort your daughter for a short walk in the gardens." The chair scraped across the stone floor as he pushed it back. "There is no need to change. She will shiver less in these clothes. It won't take long, either. After all, it is already late. I will not take up much of your time."

"Of course." Marian swallowed as her father nodded.

Guy bridged the steps in a few seconds, and a maid swiftly brought him his cloak. Black fox fur adorned his shoulders over the delicate fabric. It made his stature appear even broader and the man more imposing before he handed her his arm. Marian hesitated for a brief moment. This image of the thief hooking herself to the Sheriff's son could not have been stranger.

Guy and Marian were silent as they strode through the castle's corridors. Curious glances followed them as they passed guards and servants. Each step made a muffled sound, broke off with silence at the carpets, and then returned. These minutes seemed endless, yet she dared not shatter the fragile silence with thoughtless words.

As they stepped out into the gardens, the wind brushed perfectly innocently over the ornamental hedges and made the long branches of an old willow murmur. The gravel crunched beneath their boots. As soon as the sun sank behind the Sherwood, the gardens turned into a sea of shadows. That was another reason why numerous torches and fires had been lit, so as not to make it too easy for Robin Hood should he want to try again.

"Where have you been, Marian?" Guy finally broke the silence between them.

"I was out riding," she answered quickly, trying to justify her get-up.

"I see. Was it a pleasant ride?"

Marian nodded and felt her throat tighten like a silky soft noose wrapped around her throat. Very slowly, so that you could sense it but not reach for it.

"If you don't mind me asking: Where did you go riding?" he continued curiously, "Down by the river course or, more likely, the fields?" Guy looked at her, and Marian felt her shoulders were getting heavier. "Or in Sherwood Forest?"

Thankfully, she didn't flinch. Marian had stuck her fingers into the caskets of corrupt counters so many times in the last year that she was learning to lie a little better each time. So: what would be most plausible? The young lady smiled, even if it hung askew in her soft features and didn't begin to light up her eyes.

"Both. Along the fields, then along the forest's edge, and finally along the river's course. I like how the reeds stand on the bank this time of year. I lay down in the grass for a bit and must have fallen asleep there. It was only when the sun sank, and it got cooler that I woke up and remembered the long walk back."

Guy led her to a stone bench in front of the imposing willow. The great tree was drooping its branches mournfully befitting its name. The gardener cut Some of the branches so that the natural curtain had been drawn open to give way to an idyllic little spot. There he gestured for her to sit down.

Guy of Gisborne folded his arms behind his back and looked down at the young woman he had known since childhood and who still believed she could so easily hoodwink him. Guy didn't know what offended him more: after all this time, she still thought he wouldn't recognize how her voice squeaked treacherously. Or that she was lying to him at all. He knew every wrinkle of her nose. The way she pursed her lips when something didn't suit her. He was no fool.

"Is that so?" Guy growled, and the young woman felt uncomfortable guilt in her stomach. "You must know, on this day, a coach was robbed of taxpayers' money in Sherwood Forest."

Marian had often done something and had to bow her head afterward under the rebuke of her father, the Sheriff, or Guy. This time it was something different. It was not about the horse she brought from the market, which was unsuitable for a delicate woman. Nor about pilfered biscuits or a pair of trousers under her skirt.

"That's terrible," she said, sounding as affected as possible. She found it easier than she expected. Her heart was also heavy at the thought of how much blood had been spilled today. It shouldn't have gone like that. "Were many injured? And the bandits - did you catch them?"

"They got away before we arrived. Most of the tax money was stolen, but the guards drove them back," he told them; then Guy tilted his head, and a few strands of dark hair fell into his face. "Now explain to me, Marian," his voice struck a polished tone like black oil.

Marian felt that only a tiny spark was missing to set the mood on fire.

"How is it that my men found your stallion tied up in a clearing in Sherwood Forest, along with another steed?"