John followed me to the castle. I told him to leave off, but he wouldn’t neither. He helped me climb with my hurt hand, he waited on the wall beside me as I sat there for most of the night, staring at the residences. There weren’t no candles lit by then. We didn’t talk none. Me and John weren’t the sort for that.
When light started to rise above the trees, I stood from the wall. “Bye, John,” I said to him.
Paying no mind to my bruises, he hugged me straight off my feet, then let me go. “We won’t be far. We’ll be here if you need us.”
That weren’t true. If I needed them, it would be quick and done fast, before they could charge in. I were going, and I were going alone. “I know.”
He nodded, and just stood there. I went over the wall and into the castle, and he just stood there still. Climbing up to the residences were slow and awful, using one hand to climb up while the other were useless. I sat in Gisbourne’s window with one look left for John. He were still standing there, watching.
I took a breath and looked into the room. Gisbourne were sleeping, and my fingers twitched for a knife.
Couldn’t I just kill him right there? While he slept. No mess, just a knife in the throat and he’d wake up in Heaven ’stead of his bed.
Well, it ain’t like I make such decisions, but in truth, I doubted he were meant for Heaven.
But I still wanted to be. And that meant I couldn’t honestly kill him while he slept.
I dropped one leg inside the window and left it there. That were as far into the room as I were willing to go. I let my boot scrape along the rough stone, making a soft bit of noise, and it were enough. Gisbourne pulled awake, brandishing a short sword from under his pillow.
Heave-chested and wild eyed, he found me in the room, his mouth twisted in a snarl. He swore, putting the sword down. “Marian,” he grunted. “You came.”
“Why do you want me here, Gisbourne?” I asked. My heart were hammering but I wouldn’t move none. “Tell me or I’m leaving.”
“No you’re not,” he said, lying back without a care for me. “You want that annulment. You’d never have come otherwise. So shut up and be still and I’ll tell you if I feel like it.”
I pulled my leg back up, and I drew the shutter closed behind me but I didn’t move. I just sat there, in the window, wondering what I had done.
My heart were thrumming like someone were playing it on strings. I didn’t sleep, just took in as much as I could about the chamber. It looked the same as it had before: big chairs by the fire, the two trunks, a bed. A big bed. Gisbourne were sprawled out in it, and it were like watching a bear. It weren’t something I’d step close to, but if it were sleeping there weren’t no harm in looking.
He looked broader than I remembered. His hair were shaggy in sleep and his big back were bare and muscled over. He were built like John, all bumps and lumps and trenches in between. He were strong. Stronger than me.
It were full sunlight before he moved, and then only when a manservant came into the room. He looked at me and went over to Gisbourne, calling his name until Gisbourne woke with a growl like a beast.
“My lord, the prince will be arriving soon. You must dress.”
“Fine. Eadric, find a lady to dress my wife as well.”
“Wife, my lord?” he asked.
Gisbourne sat up. “The thing that looks like vermin in the window.”
Eadric looked at me, and scowling at him didn’t make him stop. “Yes, my lord,” he said, leaving.
Gisbourne dragged himself up, standing naked before me. My cheeks set to blushing but I stared at him and he stared at me with a frown. “Christ,” he muttered finally. He dragged on a pair of hose and an undertunic with a grimace, striding over to me.
My hands went to shakes and I balled the good one into a fist to make it stop.
He reached for me, but I ducked under his arm.
Grabbing my shirt, he whipped me against the wall. “Be. Still,” he growled.
I tried to knee him in the bits but he blocked me, using most of his big body to push me back against the wall. He pushed his arm against my pipes and I whipped my head around and some God-awful sound that were fair close to a whimper came out my mouth.
“Jesus Christ!” he roared in my face. “Stop moving!”
I stopped. I were shaking hard and hating every footstep that brought me here.
He looked at my bruises, it seemed, then let me go. My blood were moving too fast, making me shiver and shake, and I slunk away from him. “Who hit you?”
I spat a curse at him.
“You damn well better speak right when we’re around other people,” he snapped at me. “It’s bad enough that you have the hair of a boy. The bruises, however, I can’t say I mind.”