He ran his eyes over me, then looked at my face. I didn’t move none.
“Do you have any idea what’s going on here?” he asked, spreading his arms. “Do you?”
“You’re feeding my people rotten food. That’s all I need to know.”
He looked fair worried. “No, my dear. No. We are on the brink of civil unrest; with Richard away and England splintering at the helm, they need someone strong to lead them. Someone beloved. Someone to unite everyone. Someone to bring them back to the faith of the Crown.”
“Faith of the Crown? You make yourself a false idol,” I spat.
“No. They will make me into an idol, Marian. They will worship me.” He sighed. “But only if you stop telling people that I’m doing very bad things. It’s my turn to be the hero, not yours.” He waved a hand, not even looking at me as he said, “Gisbourne. Kill her.”
I leapt from the chair, grabbing a cup and sliding sideways, making myself less to aim at. “Oh you can try, love,” I growled at him.
Gisbourne just stood there like a lump. His jaw were awful tight, like every muscle had been twanged like a bowstring. “No. My lord prince.”
“No?” Prince John snarled.
Gisbourne pulled the knife from his belt and handed it to Prince John. “No. I’m not killing her.”
Prince John looked at the knife handle like it were poison. “You know why I cannot spill her blood,” he sneered.
“I will not dishonor my name, your Highness. And I will not take that curse upon me, even to spare you from it.”
Prince John’s chest began to rise and fall faster and faster. “You disloyal scum,” he growled. “I do not fear God,” he said, snatching the knife and turning to me.
“Like hell,” I snapped. “Come at me with that and I’ll break your pretty face, your Highness.”
“Gisbourne, hold her at least, would you?”
The door opened rough and fast, and Eleanor strode in with fair surprising speed for such a woman. I thought I saw the pretty girl that were half dressed in the hall behind her, but I couldn’t be sure. “John.”
Prince John looked to his mother, his lip curling. He didn’t lower the knife. “Mother.”
“Put the knife down.”
“Mother—”
“If I wanted a discussion, I would have asked you a question. Put the knife down.”
“I will punish her for what she’s done!” he roared.
Eleanor folded her hands calmly in front of her. “You will not kill her. If I have prevented you and your brothers from killing each other for the past twenty years, I will prevent you from doing this. Royal blood is sacrosanct, John. I will not allow you to kill the girl in cold blood.”
The knife lowered marginally. “You never seemed to mind murder and bloodshed when my dear brothers raised war against Father.”
She lifted her chin. “Oh, I suppose hurting her will win you a kingdom?” she asked.
His sneer folded slowly into a frown. “She must be punished. Severely.”
“Go to the window,” Eleanor said, still standing calm in the center of the room, like all the energy and life in the place were coming from her alone.
Prince John rolled his eyes like a willful child but he went. “What am I meant to be looking at, Mother?”
“Tell me what you see.”
“I see a criminal in the stocks.”
Robin.
“And?” she questioned.
He huffed out a sigh. “And a considerable amount of people around him. Servants. Lesser nobles.”
“And what are they doing?”
“I’m not a child!” he snapped at his mother, whipping his head round. “Don’t make the mistake of treating me as such.”
“You are a child,” Eleanor said, stepping forward, her voice like steel and fire. “You are a pouting bully and in danger of being held in my esteem as the stupidest of my sons. Isabel gave you such a grand opportunity tonight. A coup d’etat. An idea, by the way, that your wife stole from her.” Her long, elegant hand thrust out like a bowstaff to point at me. “Feed the people and they will love you. Helplessly and eternally. And what do you do, my stupid, stupid son? You squander the opportunity and make them hate you.”
“How dare you speak to me—”
“Silence.” She paused a moment, but he stayed quiet. “Who else do you see out there?” she asked. “Who of the highest ranking nobles beneath you—a man just beneath the shades of royalty—do you see standing beside him?”
He looked out again, resting his hands on the window ledge. His chest began to rise and fall again, and he turned from the window with a wail fit for the tantrum of a five-year-old. He grabbed the nearest table and threw it toward me, and Gisbourne grabbed my arm, pulling me out of the way. It hit the stone fireplace and shattered, and soon cloths and coins and cups followed behind, a storm of small things smashed to bits.
Gisbourne pressed me to the wall, his big body over mine as the prince raged. He didn’t look at me, his head over my shoulder, his chest breathing against mine. Soon the screams turned to words, and Prince John swore profusely, mentioning Winchester’s name several times.
Gisbourne jerked and grunted, and I knew something hit him in the back. I didn’t dare look at him. I couldn’t much confess to know anything of what was going on, but I knew he defied the prince for my life, and I didn’t want to know why. I didn’t much have space in my heart to care for another tortured man.
For a few breaths, things stopped flying cross the room and the cursing ceased. “Are you quite finished?” Eleanor asked.
Gisbourne eased up on me, and no sooner did he step away than the prince pointed to me and yelled, “You stupid bitch! You did this!”
“You will fix this,” Eleanor said. “John. John. You will fix this.”
“I will kill all of them,” he snarled.
Eleanor slapped him. “John. You will go out there and say that your orders have been wildly misinterpreted. You will say you have come to thank Robin Hood for championing the people and protecting them from the gross misconduct of those serving you. You will say he is cleared of any wrongdoings tonight or any night past; you will invite him to participate in the tournament as the people’s representative.”
I couldn’t much help myself; I gasped.
Prince John scowled. “Why would I ever do that?”