Nottingham - Castle De Burgh
Three days later

The door creaked shut behind her chambermaid, leaving Marian alone in her chamber. Most of the candles of the silver chandeliers had been extinguished for the upcoming night's rest, and the soft crackling of the wood in the fireplace, together with the dancing flames. It filled the chamber with a cozy atmosphere. Marian's thoughts, however, did not hang in the large four-poster bed with the dark red curtains with ornaments on brocade. Since Robin Hood's break-in three days ago, there had been a tense atmosphere in the fortress.

She felt sorry for the poor guards, who had been especially hard-pressed in the last few hours of training. The captain increasingly needed an explanation in front of the Sheriff of Nottingham and her father. It could have been less of an uproar if it had been the first time Robin Hood had relieved the tax collectors of part of their tithe. But it wasn't.

Hood had already entered the chamber of counters six times before in different ways and had stolen a not-inconsiderable part of the tax money each time. The sheriff, the earl, and Guy were furious. The guards were increasingly stepping up, and the counting-house was eventually moved from the custom houses to the fort's interior. But as had now become apparent, even this did not stop the thief. Hood acted according to no pattern. He appeared like a whirlwind, leaving chaos in his wake, and the confusion, he disappeared like a ghost.

Marian sighed and peeled herself out of the evening gown, its fabric rustling softly on the chemise before the bed. She shivered in the thin garment of cotton and linen, which fell to her ankles like white snow while a gentle breeze brushed the back of her neck.

Just now, in the distance, like a bird following the wind with wings spread, her thoughts returned in a flash to the here and now. Her heartbeat quickened, and the fine hairs on the back of her neck stood up before a shiver of unease crept over her skin and gave her goosebumps. Immediately Marian tensed and turned slowly towards the window of her bay window.

Where the windows should be closed, the curtains drawn. But instead a dark figure leaned against the window frame. The moonlight fell against a broad cross and shrouded the features under a hood in shadow. But Marian didn't need to see it either to know who was standing there.

'Why is he here? He didn't know who you were, did he?' 

Marian decided for now to try a charade. "Who are you?" she asked, stepping backward to mime the image of the poor, frightened lady. "W-what do you want from me?" Marian was convinced her acting performance deserved an award. Hardly any showman on the street would have done better. Instead, however, the dark figure let out a laugh.

"Oh, please," he waved it off and puffed in amusement. "I wouldn't buy that even if you hadn't tricked me so brazenly."

It was so quiet for a moment that one could have heard the mice coughing in the walls.

"And how dare you show up in my chambers at this hour? How did you even get in here without alerting the guards?"

"Every now and then, I manage to get to my destination unseen." A low laugh spilled into the darkness as the brazen thief detached himself from her window and strolled further into the room as leisurely as if it were his own. He lifted the book's cover lying around, let the pages flutter, and then glanced almost casually in her direction. "And as for the hour," now a cheeky gleam crept into the green eyes, "No honor among thieves. Those were your own words, weren't they, Marian?"

Marian snorted as she carefully gathered the night robe before her chest. What irony. Hadn't she told Guy just a few days ago that there was no need to assign extra guards for her? She had underestimated Hood. The question was whether it was stupid or brave of him to appear here. "What do you want from me, Robin Hood?"

The thief grinned and grabbed an apple from a silver bowl piled high with tempting fruit. Playfully, he turned it back and forth in his hand so that the play of lights from the candlelight danced across the switch.
"Well, you must know, our encounter and curiosity just wouldn't let me go and gave me sleepless nights," he reported theatrically, pressing his hand to his chest. But even though the grin wouldn't leave his features, she recognized something lurking behind his words that he couldn't quite disguise. "So deliver me from my fate and tell me: what makes the lovely Maid Marian, beloved daughter of the Earl of Sherwood, steal from her own father?"

With each word, the sharpness of his voice increased. Finally, his eyes literally pierced through the dull darkness in her direction.

"Are you worried that I might steal your loot, Hood?" she asked in a challenging tone as her arched brows rose higher.

This time Hood laughed so loudly that she feared for a moment that someone outside the chamber might have heard him. He leaned against the table and rubbed the apple against his chest over the green doublet with the shiny wooden buttons. "What's the matter, princess? Didn't your father want to buy you a second pony?"

"Unlike you, Robin Hood, I don't put the captured money into my own pockets," Marian returned a little more irritably than she had intended. His presence made her uneasy.

"Oh no?" Noisily, Robin bit into the apple. Some juice ran through his beard and dripped from his chin onto his doublet before he tossed the rest of the apple out the window.

"No." The lady pressed her lips together into a thin line for a moment, trying not to let on how much this chatter annoyed her. Robin knew nothing of her or her motives.

Robin Hood, meanwhile, tilted his head from side to side as if he had to consider whether to believe her. "Then why do you do it?" he asked again.

She didn't understand why he was here or asking her all this, but she suspected. Was he hoping to take advantage of an old connection? Then he hoped in vain. Robin was a stranger to her. Almost six years they had not seen each other. A long time for a young girl. Marian was silent for a few heartbeats, then released the air with a sigh and crossed her arms in front of her chest. 

"I take nothing from the king's official tax money. Among the counters, soldiers, and even priests, some corrupt vultures and hypocrites secretly put funds into their own pockets. The enumerator of yesterday... he writes down false sums, and the sheriff collects even more from the poor," she explained earnestly. The tone around her lips was full of contempt.

"These men steal from the tax money that the people can barely spare. They are starving, and the levies are going up. I steal from the meters because they cannot report these sums. Neither the king nor the sheriff finds out about my racketeering. I give back to the people of Nottingham what is theirs. Out of the pockets of those who already own enough."

"Like your father or the sheriff?" returned Robin, earning an icy look.

"The sheriff and his men only represent the law in Nottingham," she said thoughtfully, "My father does not levy or fix taxes. He helps the people where he can."

"But there will be no end to the suffering and the raising of taxes until Usurper is thrust from the throne!" now interjected Robin, his voice also losing its jest and mischievousness.

Marian's brow furrowed, and she felt she was getting closer to something beyond simple petty thievery and Robin's arrogance. "What does the oh-so-great Robin Hood need so much money for?"

Robin's lips formed a thin line. For a few moments, he seemed to wrestle with himself, and Marian already suspected that he was about to tell her another lie. But then he heaved a heavy sigh, half turned away from her, and rubbed the back of his neck tensely. 
"My land and title were taken from me. My family died while I tried to reclaim the Holy Land alongside our rightful king." Robin took a deep breath, and after a long sigh, he continued. "Every coin I steal funds soldiers and resistance against the man bleeding my homeland dry."

"So you seek revenge?"

"I do not seek revenge. I seek justice. Not for myself, but for England. And I will not stop until King Richard the Lionheart is back."

Marian gasped and ran her hands over her eyes and the bridge of her nose. "Robin, King Richard is dead."

"Do you really believe that?" Robin's gaze settled on Marian, and his expression hardened. "For what reason, then, does Prince John not yet wear the crown?"