My father roared and came toward me, but I ducked away from him as my mother wailed in pain. “Where is she!” my father bellowed.

“My girl—” my mother cried, sobs stabbing in the middle of her words. “My only—girl is—dead—”

“What?” I asked, but I weren’t sure if I even really said it over their hollering. My father continued to rant at me, yelling and coming after me, making me shift round the room. “Mother! What did you just say?” I demanded.

“You killed our daughter!” my father screamed. “You killed our daughter! You took everything we ever had and never gave a damn about us! We never would have taken you in if we knew you would kill Joanna!”

This stopped me dead in my tracks. “Taken me …”

He grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me hard enough that I thought my head would wrench straight off. I couldn’t stop him, couldn’t much think. Taken you in.

My hand jerked and hit my chest, and searing pain made me gasp, jerking to life. I drew the knife and angled it at his throat. He let me go, madness in his eyes.

“One of the other things I’m good at,” I told him. “Knives.”

His face twisted and he spat at me. “You are not my daughter. You never were.”

“Marian.”

My head twisted to look at Gisbourne, standing in the doorway. “I believe you are needed elsewhere at the moment.”

He folded his arms, looking at my father, and even if the kindness came from Gisbourne, I took my chance and left.

But I didn’t run.

I were done running.

I went to the tourney grounds, but not the the dais where I were meant to sit. I went into the crowd and found Much. “Rob told me what happened,” he told me.

My face dropped. How did Rob know? Did everyone know?

He were looking at my hand, though, and suddenly the world spun into sense.

“I’m sorry,” he told me.

“It won’t change a damn thing,” I spat, waving him off. “You taught me that.”

His shoulder touched mine. “Still.”

“No John?”

He shook his head.

“Will you do something for me, Much?” I asked.

He nodded. “Of course, Scar.”

“You can’t yap about it,” I told him, looking toward him but not at him.

“Even to Rob?” he asked.

“Sort of. It has to be me what tells him, not you, Much.”

“All right. What is it?”

I scratched at the velvet on my gown, trying to push blood into my cold fingers. “Find out if anyone knows of someone who gave their baby to the Leafords.”

He stared at me. “You mean …?”

I nodded. “I think. I don’t know.”

“You, or your sister?”

“Me,” I said soft. “And fast as you can.”

He nodded. “The monks might know. They would have cared for your mother in childbirth—or noticed the lack thereof.”

“Or Lady Thoresby. Her mother were a midwife too.”

He nodded. “I’ll find out, Scar.”

A grunt rang out and we turned back to the field. It weren’t Rob fighting. “How has he been doing?” I asked.

“Fought twice. He’s winning, but my guess is they’ve been ordered to hurt him more than beat him. He’s taking punishment.”

I pushed my shoulders back. “One more day, Much, and it all changes. Forever.”

He squeezed my good hand. “I’ll go and find out, Scar.”

“Thank you.”

Much left, and I went to find my next quarry. He were there, in an overloud red felt hat, selling a crowd on some story. I moved into his sight and motioned to him, and it took him a moment to end the story with a flourish and collect some coin before coming over to me.

He flipped me a coin. “For the lovely lady,” he said with a bow.

I caught it, then tossed it back to him. “I don’t want your coin, Allan.”

He raised a charming eyebrow. “Then there’s something the lady does want?”

I met his eyes dark and true. “Confidence.”

He straightened, and the playman fell away. He looked at me. “I am a confidence man, Lady Scar. And at your faithful service, if you wish it.”

“I do,” I said soft. “I need information.”

“On what?”

“Lord Leaford’s daughters.”

He squinted. “It would seem you have the natural advantage to that information.”

My pipes were thick. “I don’t. And I don’t know if this was said to wound me or if it’s true, but they—my parents—rather, the Leafords let me think I’m not their natural daughter.”

His eyebrows rose. “Then to whom does the fair thief belong?”

“That’s your bit to find out.”

He bowed and kissed my hand. “It shall be done.”

“Thank you, Allan.”

I went back to the castle, and I walked past Rob’s room. I wanted to wait for him to return, to tell him everything, but it felt too raw, too new, too strange. And tomorrow would decide it all—he needed rest.

I continued on, praying my night would be the only sleepless one.

Gisbourne were waiting in the chambers. He raised his eyebrows. “I was not sure that you’d return.”

I raised my chin. “My parents can say what they want, but that don’t change that I’m married to you, and that don’t change that I want that annulment. So I’m here.”