Knights set up in the halls, blocking people from passing, but we were let pass at every point.
“I can damn well walk!” I snapped as Gisbourne kept his hold on me.
“It’s so much more entertaining to drag you, my love,” he said, tossing the words over his shoulder.
He stopped sharp at a guarded door. I knew where we were—this were the sheriff’s old quarters, the nicest room in the place. The guards opened the door to an antechamber with still more guards and we went in.
A young lord in an overpuffed green velvet tunic stood there. “Gisbourne,” he greeted, with a smile so thin I could bare see his lips, “so good to see you again.”
“My lord de Clare,” Gisbourne greeted, bowing. “May I introduce to you my lady wife, Marian of Leaford. Marian, this is the future earl of Hertford.”
They were both fair staring at me, so I dropped a curtsy and made a face.
De Clare coughed. “Charming,” he said with a bow.
Gisbourne’s lip were curling. “He wished to see me.”
“Yes, well, now he’s decided to keep you waiting,” de Clare said, sitting on a bench and propping one ankle on his knee. His eyes stayed on me overmuch. “So she doesn’t look half as wild as they say. Damn near domesticated, even.” He tapped his eye with a laugh. “I see what inspired the change.”
“You should see what I did to him,” I spat back.
De Clare laughed and I had half a mind to make him think better of it when Gisbourne’s heavy paw slapped across my face.
Pain were hot and blinding and I weren’t quite sure how, but I ended up on the floor. De Clare were laughing still and Gisbourne had turned away from me. A knight stooped and offered me his hand with a clatter of armor. Shamed, I pulled away from him and stood up on my own.
“She’s still learning,” Gisbourne said.
Annulment, I said to myself. I said it so many times the word lost its taste. It made me think of my Rob, and the thought of him and the pain pulsing through my mug suddenly made water push up behind my eyes.
I sucked in a breath and pushed away the tears. I weren’t never going to cry in front of Gisbourne.
Something wet were on my chin and I licked the side of my mouth. It stung and my mouth tasted like copper.
“You look pretty in red,” de Clare told me with a chuckle. I wiped the blood from my mouth and stared ahead at the door.
The door opened and a taller, immensely broad-shouldered man stepped forward. De Clare swallowed his laugh at the sight of him, and he spared bare more than a glance for de Clare. He took one long step from the door and stopped, bowing and catching my hand. His sheer size made me think he were older than me by far, but he smiled and the light that caught in his eyes made him appear far younger. He couldn’t have been more than twenty-five, younger even than my husband.
“My lady Marian,” he greeted, kissing my hand. “Forgive my impudence; I know we have not been introduced, but your father has always been a great adviser to me. I am the Earl of Winchester. It is an honor to meet you.”
He straightened up and I gave him a curtsy. He frowned as he looked at my face.
“Gisbourne, someone has done injury to your wife,” he said, his voice granite-like.
Gisbourne smirked. “Your Grace,” he greeted with a deep nod. “I’m hunting the rapscallion down.”
“Good,” Winchester said, still looking to me. “Any man that harms a woman ought to be flogged.” He gave me the littlest of smiles. “Though I hear some women have their own ways of answering such harm.”
“Some women do, my lord,” I agreed, bowing my head as I were meant.
“I will tell the steward to seat us together at supper, my lady. There is much I would like to discuss with you.”
“Your Grace,” I said, curtsying.
“The prince will see you now,” he said, gesturing us forward.
The room weren’t the same—weren’t nothing the same round here. It looked lovely and warm, covered in coffers and fabrics and servants. The pink-cheeked princess sat in a chair by the fire, and the prince were lounging in a chair beside her, picking at a plate of food.
Gisbourne pulled me in front of them like he were presenting me, and I stood there, looking from the prince to the girl and back. “Your Royal Highnesses, may I introduce Lady Marian of Leaford,” he said.
“It’s traditional to make obeisance, young lady,” the prince said.
I swept into a curtsy, the heat of the fire on my back making me sweat.
“Very good,” he said. “Gisbourne, I see you’ve been disciplining her.”
Gisbourne nodded his head. “My prince.”
“So, you’re the girl who is helping Huntingdon cause so much trouble.”
I eased up on my knees, starting to pull up.
“Did he say you could rise?” asked the princess. I stopped, frowning at her.
The prince chuckled.
“Yes, your Highness,” I said to him.
“Yes, what? Yes, you acted as an outlaw? Yes, you betrayed your loyalty to your country, to your king? Yes, you defied the sheriff, my sworn representative?”
My knees set to burning. “Yes,” I repeated.
“Yes, what?” he said again. “Are you sorry for your actions?”
With a grunt I stood straight, rubbing my aching knees. “No,” I snapped. “I ain’t never going to be sorry, neither. The sheriff were a sorry excuse of a man and I’m more ’an happy he’s dead.”
The prince’s face folded into a sneer. “You’re an impudent thing,” he told me. “Perhaps you should be on your knees as you beg my forgiveness.”
He nodded to Gisbourne, who swung out with his boot to kick the back of my knees. It were a hard target in skirts and I jumped away. “I ain’t begging,” I snapped. “I never did nothing wrong.”
“Kneel, or you will gravely insult the Crown,” the prince growled at me. Gisbourne stepped forward to make me, but the prince snapped, “Gisbourne, heel.”
Gisbourne’s face twisted, but he retreated back to give me room to kneel before the prince.
I could kneel, but I weren’t about to beg. Slow, and fair awkward because of my skirts, I took to my knees, staring the prince down. “Your Highness,” I grunted.
“Let’s try that again. You acted as an outlaw and disrespected the Crown in so doing. Do you admit this?”
“Yes and no,” I said. “I defied laws to be sure, but I acted for the people and that is always meant to be in respect for the Crown.”