Isabel nodded and turned away, and Ben threw his arms around me. “Thank you, Scarlet. Thank you so much.”
He let me go quick as he started, and immediately set to closing up his cart, I imagine to run back to his master and give the good news.
Isabel crooked her fingers at me, beckoning me along like a pup. Less than a pup, really. Least you called out for a pup.
I went. Most because in spite of her beauty and terrible sense of men, I liked what she’d done for Ben. “That will mean a great deal for him,” I told her. It were the closest I could come to thanking her for it.
She lifted a shoulder. “My husband’s reputation needs improvement, Lady Marian.” Her eyes met mine sharp. “It may be expensive to buy a loyal sword, but peasant loyalty is bought rather cheap, don’t you think? They will talk of it for years. The kindness of the prince and princess—and when Richard returns, he will hear of it and reinstate John as his heir.”
As much as I wanted to stomp about and tell her the hearts of the people weren’t just open and eager for purchase, I didn’t. I wanted them to have her coin, even if it meant damn little in the end.
She weren’t shy about it neither. At the next booth she told one of the other women that the lady needed to buy new gloves; she told another lady to buy several new combs. On and on she went through the market, spending all our money for us and giving it to the vendors. The guards were piled with the parcels, including a lamb on a tether that the princess thought were the dearest thing.
Halfway through the market, people were well aware of the princess. I caught Allan sulking about and he gave me a wink before he lifted a purse from one of the ladies. Vendors were crowding closer, shouting at the princess, begging for her coin. And they weren’t the only ones begging—Nottingham’s hungry had come as well, calling to her. The ladies crowded closer together, but the princess pretended not to hear the voices of the poor.
More guards filled in behind us, pushing the people aside and crushing into the narrow space to put themselves between the ladies and the common folk.
Someone tugged on my coin purse, an inept thief, and I caught him by the throat with my good hand as I whipped round to press my elbow against his chest, keeping my hurt hand away from him. It were a young boy I didn’t know. He couldn’t have been more than ten. Even caught, he stared me down with the fiercest look, and I stared back. He were so young.
He moved, striking like a snake to spit in my face and try to wrench free. I had him tight though, and I shook him. “Stop,” I grunted. “I ain’t trying to hurt you.”
“Oh!” someone cried behind me. I let him go to turn and see, and the princess had her arms up. There were a girl clinging to her skirts, round the same age as the boy, and I wondered if they were partners. Or siblings. Which I reckoned were much the same thing.
A guard rushed forward at the same time I did, only he raised his sheathed sword to hit the young girl back with his hilt. The angle were such that I couldn’t get full between them, but I pulled the girl back and by instinct blocked with my other hand. Which were broke.
I fell back and choked on a yell, holding the girl to me still as stars shot through my eyes.
It were a bit of a mess then. The guard tried to help me and several of the vendors what knew me hurried forward to help. I stood and kept the girl close in the crush of people, trying to wave them away. The princess were talking to the guards it seemed, and slowly eyes went back to her, and despite all the people around I weren’t the focus.
“Are you all right?” I felt a body press close to mine like the crowd pushing too close, the whisper right into my ear, the brim of Rob’s hood skidding over my cheek.
“Get her out of here,” I said to him, pushing the girl against him. She looked up at me, eyes wide. “I think she has a brother. Feed them.” I pushed Gisbourne’s coin into his hand, and his lips pressed my cold cheek, setting the whole thing to flames.
“The shadows aren’t the same without you, love,” he murmured soft.
Then he were gone, and the girl were gone with him, and the crush of people, like they had been there just to hide Rob, started to fade.
Isabel were staring at me like she had seen the whole thing, like I were betraying Gisbourne, like all the power of her beauty were meant for hating me.
My hand had started to bleed again from the blow, and as we were shepherded back to the castle by guards, one of the ladies fussed over it so until I finally agreed to let a runner go for the monks. It would be a fair long while before the runner made it out there and the monks made it back, and I prayed the ladies wouldn’t be clucking near so much. As soon as I agreed, though, the ladies ceased to bother me, and Isabel went out to watch the joust. I headed for Gisbourne’s chambers and stopped at a window, looking out over the grounds. They were far enough that they looked like toys, knights on runners set to lance each other.
I couldn’t see the royals under their tent, but I wondered if Eleanor were there. What had Isabel meant, making so much of her interest in me? She had been kind, but I didn’t know enough to reckon if it were a special thing.
What other notice would she have of me? Unless she had a softness for half-wild girls with a penchant for thieving. She had been her own brand of wild when she were young—she fought wars! Incited her children to rebellion! Taught her sons how to be kings and married her daughters to some of the most powerful monarchs in Europe.
I shook my head and went back to the room. Without Gisbourne there, it were quiet and calm, and I locked the door and took the chance to lay on the bed for once. It were a fair fine thing, and before I knew better, I were fast asleep.
I woke to a pounding on the door. Startling awake, I stood from the bed and frowned at it like it had betrayed me. Going quick to the door, I opened it to see Brother Ignatius and a figure a bit taller than him in a hood. It were too short to be Rob, too slight to be John—
“Much?” I asked.
He pushed me gentle-like into the room, dashing the hood off. “Hush,” he said. “Still an outlaw, you know, even if I’m not the most recognizable one.”
“He insisted,” Brother Ignatius said, bringing me to the heavy, carved chairs. He were one of the older monks, but by far the best at healing arts. He unwrapped my hand and I hissed as the cloth tore free from the blood and muck that weren’t quite skin. Much were bent over my chair, peering over my shoulder to glare down at it.
“Hmm,” Much said.