throne, for as certain as the day is long, Eleanor remains a threat to him. A threat he will not bear reminding of too many times.”
“My lady is no longer a threat to King John,” Marienne insisted softly. “He has already taken measures to ensure she can never be a threat to him again.”
“Measures? What measures? Even if he intends to make her swear fealty to him in front of every baron in the kingdom, there will come a time when he breaks into a cold sweat and wonders if there were any rebel lords he missed.”
“She is no longer a threat to the crown he wears,” Marienne said again, a little more desperately this time. “She is no longer a threat to his rule over England, Normandy, or Brittany. The only threat that exists is against her life if you attempt to take her away from this place, for she will surely die, if not by the king’s hand, then by her own.”
“By her own?” Eduard sucked in a harsh breath. “What manner of horror has the king promised to make her contemplate such a thing?”
Marienne lowered her chin until it rested on her chest. “I am sworn to say only what I have said to you thus far, my lord. I am sworn to say it and to exact a promise, sealed on the holiest of vows, that you will pursue this thing no farther.”
Eduard offered a short, remonstrative laugh. “God on high should not test my patience with any more vows! How can she expect such a thing from me without my knowing the reasons behind it?”
“Her love is the reason behind it. And if your love for her is one tenth … one hundredth as strong as her love for you, it would be enough.”
Eduard shook his head. It was beyond his comprehension to accept defeat so easily and Marienne recognized the gesture for what it was. But there was nothing more she could say or do to explain, or even to ease the torment of her Eleanor’s decision, not without breaking a most solemn vow of her own.
“Perhaps … I should go away and come back later, when you have had time to think on my lady’s request.”
Eduard did not answer. He gave no sign of any intent to do so, and Marienne turned away, her shoulders slumped under the weight of more misery than she could bear. Robin was standing where she had left him and she tried to smile again, but the threat of more tears was too bright in her eyes.
“Marienne … you must let Eduard help,” he stammered. “You must convince the princess to let him help.”
The sweet, heart-shaped face lifted to his. At fourteen she was more than capable of turning heads—Robert d’Amboise’s had been most thoroughly swivelled since the first moment he had met her. A smile was enough to tie his tongue in knots, and a tear … A tear was enough to wrench his heart into his throat and nearly smother him.
“You have already helped more than you can ever know,” she said. “Just the fact that you came for her, that there is still something good and fair and noble left to rise out of the sorrow and heartbreak … well …”
Robin was too devastated to reply and Marienne looked at Ariel for the first time.
“Forgive me, my lady. I was to assist you with your bath, and here we have talked the time away instead.”
Ariel shook her head. “Think nothing of it; the time was better spent.”
Marienne offered a small curtsy and was reaching for the latch of the door when she stopped and glanced back. “Be very careful of Lord Gisbourne. He plays the role of amiable host well enough, but he is cut of the same mold as his liege and master, who loses his charm to madness with a swiftness that can take your breath—and your freedom—away. Even our bold captain treads lightly around the governor’s moods.”
“I thank you for the warning,” Ariel said, answering for them all.
Marienne cast a final glance at Robin and Eduard, then left. No sooner had the door eased shut behind her, however, than Eduard was moving toward it, his face set and grim, his hands taking an instinctive inventory of the knives, daggers, and sword comprising his personal arsenal.
“Where are you going?” Ariel asked. “What are you planning to do?”
“I am going to follow Marienne back to the tower and I am planning to find a