“I can’t take this back, Scarlet, once I’ve told you,” he breathed.

“You won’t have to, Rob.” I stroked his head, his neck, his rough cheek.

“The sand cleared,” he said, “as quick as it had come. And at my feet were three men I’d fought beside for months. Three men I knew. One was even younger than I was. And I had killed them. You all think I’m so noble and goddamn righteous, but I don’t even know who the enemy is. I don’t know who the enemy is if not the demon that’s within me. Those men, the hostage children I was made to kill—Scar, they haunt me. They haunt my nights and they remind me daily that even if by some miracle I can win this, I should never be sheriff. I know the weak and evil parts of myself too well.”

It were him what were trembling, and I tugged on his shoulder until he drew up, guiding him to the bed and making him lie in it. He were sweating hard, and I feared for a fever. I stroked his hair back as it slicked over with sweat. He were staring at me, waiting for what I would say.

Slow, I shook my head. “That isn’t evil, Rob. That isn’t weak. It’s horrible and unfair. But it’s not your fault.” He tried to pull away from me but I stroked his cheek. “There is so much more in your heart than your ghosts,” I told him. “And in mine too. I don’t care how many sleepless nights it takes. I don’t care for bruises or fire. I won’t let them take your soul.”

He gave me a tiny hint of a smile and it felt like sunlight breaking on me. “I don’t know if you have much of a say over it.”

“You gave your heart into my keeping, Rob, and I protect what’s mine. Because I know what is in there true, and it has naught to do with demons.” I bent down, coming closer to his face and letting our lips bare touch. His hand ran into my hair and he pulled me closer for a proper kiss. I felt him breathe deeper, slower, into me, calming, our souls rushing out to meet.

I broke off, then ducked again for one more touch. “They can’t have you,” I whispered to him. “You’re mine.” I kissed the corner of his mouth. “And I look at Gisbourne and he don’t know he’s weak. The prince don’t know he’s cruel. But you know your most dangerous parts and you act like a hero anyway. That’s what will make you a wonderful sheriff, Rob.” I stroked his face. “But if you ever wanted to run, I would run with you. This will be brutal and punishing, Rob, and if you ever think you can’t fight in true, I will run with you in a breath.”

“I can’t run,” he said. “But I fear I can’t win, either.”

The guards outside spoke to someone, and I sat up straight as the healer came in. He came with a tray of jars and knives, and my lip curled. The monks disliked the practice because of its weakening effects, but I forgot how common it were for these noble healers.

“No,” I said as he crossed the threshold. “No bloodletting.”

The man’s mouth dropped. “My—my lady, his humours must be brought into balance.”

“Poultices, tinctures are fine. No bloodletting.”

Rob squeezed my hand tight.

The healer’s chest puffed. “With respect, my lady, his Grace instructed me to bring the young man to full health.”

“You bring a knife near his skin and I will have it at your throat,” I snapped.

He went red and started sputtering, but Rob managed a weak chuckle. “Please, my lord, denying her wishes would be much more hazardous to my health.”

“If the lady would remove herself,” the healer said, “I must examine his lordship.”

“I’m no lord,” Rob said. “And I would like you to look at her hand first.”

The man’s eyebrows what were thicker than the feathers of a ruffled chicken rose up, but he didn’t say anything as I drew the hand slow out of the sling. He unwrapped the wet bandages careful, and when he were done he looked at my face in a way full different than he had before.

He handed me the pain tincture. “Several drops of this should help, my lady,” he said grave.

I shook my head, but Rob sat up, sliding one arm around my waist and taking a dropper full with the other hand. He held it up and I opened my mouth as he tapped it in. I shut my eyes against the taste and turned full against him as the healer put a salve to the wounds that looked sick already.

It were so raw and sore that his touches hurt more than the cut what did it. To my horror I started to sob, but Rob held me tight, squeezed against him.

When it were done, I were shaking violently and Rob held me, kissing my cheek and temple and hair. “Go on,” he said after a moment. “Rest. You need it.”

“I’ll come back,” I promised him.

He nodded, kissing my cheek once more.

Careful to walk proper out of the room so Rob wouldn’t worry, I near collapsed outside the door, and one of the guards caught me in his arms. “My lady,” he said. “His Grace asked me to see you back to your chambers.”

I nodded, fair grateful. It seemed miles back to my room. We started walking and I were more grateful for the earl’s care when I fainted dead in the hall.

When I woke, it were to a soft, metal noise and the cracking of fire. I were in the bed I didn’t like, and my whole body felt like a sack of flour. I struggled to sit up in the bed; the day-old dress had been taken off me and I was just in the long, loose gown, deep under blankets and warm.

Gisbourne were near the fire, and I could see the glint of steel as his whetstone passed over the sword, sharpening the blade careful and slow.