Lion Heart

He shook his head, looking down, leaning over his knees. He were broken. “It doesn’t matter if I am or I’m not; the people don’t have the money left. They’ll starve as it is.” He held up the coin again. “This is all that stands between us and Prince John, Scarlet. Our overlord just stole our damn money so he can beat us within an inch of our lives.”

 

 

“Not our overlord,” I told him, looking at the splinters on the floor.

 

“What did you say?” he asked.

 

“Prince John isn’t our overlord anymore,” I told him.

 

I looked up at him. Our eyes met, and held, and I didn’t know if I could say the words.

 

“I am. I’m the Lady—” I faltered, looking down again. “Of Huntingdon.”

 

“But you can’t be,” he said, and he sounded so confused it hurt. “Richard would have had to . . .” He trailed off, and I looked up, still hugged against the door, nervous to come into the room full. “And Eleanor would have asked him to do it the moment Prince John imprisoned you. Hell, she probably wrote to him from Nottingham.”

 

“Rob,” I said, coming forward.

 

He stood up before I got to him, and picked up the chair he’d sat on and heaved it against the wall, shattering it.

 

I jumped back. “Rob!” I yelled.

 

“Dammit, Scarlet!” Rob yelled back. “All this does is place you squarely in his sights. Now you’re the one who won’t pay the tax. You think he won’t bury you for that?”

 

“I think he will try to kill me just about every which way he can,” I snapped back at him. “With or without a title. The only thing it changes is that maybe, if we have enough alliances, we can stop him. We can be more powerful than he is.”

 

His jaw worked, muscles twisting and bumping out, and he shook his head. He walked close to me, and I watched him, wary. He touched my cheek, and his lips pressed against mine, almost dry. I tilted my head, and he kissed me better, deeper, but he didn’t touch me anywhere else. I raised my arms to put them around him, but he broke the kiss and stepped away from me. “Good night, Scar.”

 

Frowning, I watched him walk away from me.

 

 

 

I went to the Great Hall to sleep with the others, but Rob weren’t there, and it weren’t easy. Everywhere around me, I saw the death and pain that had brought us to this point.

 

I saw Ravenna, soaked in her own blood on the dais. I saw Rob in a gibbet. I saw Gisbourne and Prince John and the ridiculous excess of the feasts at Christmas that led these people to starvation now.

 

It were the dead of the night when I woke up, going out to the courtyard. It were a warm spring night with bare any breeze, and I crossed the way, going to the spot by the bailey that I remembered too well.

 

Someone had pried up the rocks that had been darkened with blood, and now the rocks there were too bright, a pale gray compared to the darker ones around them. Mismatched.

 

I stood there, looking at the place where John had died, until my legs started to sway, and I went back inside to sleep until the sun rose.

 

 

 

“My lady,” David called, shaking my shoulder. “My lady?”

 

Allan started playing some music damn close to my ear, and I frowned, opening my eyes. “Christ, Allan, stop that,” I snapped, putting my hands on the strings. I glanced around at the other, still-sleeping forms on the floor. “People are trying to sleep.”

 

“My lady, the Earl of Winchester is here,” David told me. “We thought you should greet him.”

 

“David thought,” Allan corrected.

 

“Yes, no one would accuse you of thinking, would they?” David drawled.

 

I sat up. “Very well. Where’s Rob?”

 

“Just left for the gates. He didn’t want us to wake you.”

 

I frowned at that, and stood.

 

Running quick for the city gates, I caught up with Rob as Winchester and a small company of knights came through. He and Winchester shook hands, and they both stared at each other with solemn faces. He turned, and I saw Essex behind him.

 

Christ. It were like three men all practicing how to scowl together.

 

Coming closer, I tried to straighten myself. I were still dressed like a man, not quite looking the lady. For Winchester and Rob I didn’t think it mattered much, but I were still fair sure Essex didn’t like me.

 

“Your Grace,” Essex said, sighting me first and bowing. Winchester followed suit, and Rob looked at me like he didn’t know me anymore. After a moment, he bowed too, and it stung.

 

“My lords,” I said, dipping to them, which I’m sure looked fair foolish in breeches.

 

“We couldn’t spare many men from the queen,” Winchester said, looking between me and Rob, “but I brought what I could. And Essex volunteered to help.” Winchester clapped Essex on the shoulder, and Essex looked stern at this.

 

“I wrote to Winchester for aid,” Rob explained. His throat worked. “After they burned the city. Before . . . everything.”

 

Winchester’s eyes darted between us. “And we have knights to help you recover. As I said, not many, but surely any hands will help.”

 

Rob’s mouth tightened, and he looked at me.

 

Because I were the noble now. I were the one in power, not him. “Thank you,” I told them. “Any help is needed. I’m still waiting for the Nottinghamshire knights to return from the prince’s company.”

 

Winchester grimaced. “That won’t go over well.”