“Bye, Scar,” Much said.

“I’ll be up at the castle for the tournament tomorrow, Scar,” John said. “I’ll look in on you.”

I wanted to snap that I weren’t a baby or some small thing that needed looking after, but it weren’t the truth. I missed the band. I missed feeling safe and looked after. I nodded at John and left, tucking Rob’s arm closer to me.

We stepped into the cold dark and it felt sweeter with him beside me, like instead of dying the world had made space for the two of us. Going to the yard I took the reins of the horse, pulling him along with us as we walked.

“What happened tonight, Scarlet?” Rob asked me.

I turned my face into his shoulder against the thought. “Not worth thinking on, Rob. Are you still not sleeping?”

“I’ve slept a little,” he said. “Never for very long at a time. The monks said that might help.”

“And it has?”

He nodded. “The nightmares start and I wake up. I don’t slip into them.”

“But they’re still there.”

“They’ve always been there, Scar. I cheated them for as long as I could.”

“I had nightmares when I were younger, when my sister died. They went away after a time.” After I met you, I knew with a start. I hadn’t put that together before. And now he had nightmares, and I couldn’t put a balm on his mind the way he had mine.

His arms rubbed along me, warming me like fire. “I’m trying for you, Scar. I’m trying to find a way out of them.” His voice were whisper soft and the night ate it up. “I keep thinking about that night, when I hurt you. How much worse it could have been. And if we ever—I mean, in the chance that we ever have a family—” His voice stopped, and he were swallowing, over and over, like whatever were stuck wouldn’t go down.

Family. That meant children, didn’t it? Babies. It made shivers and gooseflesh run over my body. For so long I had never thought I were meant for that, but Rob … I could see our family clear as water. Strong sons with Rob’s eyes and moppy little girls with my sister’s gold hair. Rob with them all bundled up in his arms.

“Rob,” I said soft. “You tried your damnedest to kill me, but you didn’t. You couldn’t, and I wouldn’t let you. So if this thing is always chasing you, I wouldn’t never let you hurt a family. But you will fight this. Can’t you tell me what you see, when you dream?”

He shuddered. “Tell me what happened tonight.”

“You’ll lose your temper,” I told him soft.

“And if I tell you the nightmares,” he said, pulling me close and tucking his head to mine, “you might lose your love for me.”

“Never,” I swore.

“It’s always the Crusades,” he whispered into my ear. Despite being so much like what Gisbourne had done earlier, this made my skin blush warm and my heart beat fast. “There was so much fighting, Scarlet. So much death. And so much of it I was responsible for. And when I dream, I’m fighting still.”

I knew that weren’t but a bit of it; he would never fear to lose my love over such a thing. I knew he fought. I knew he killed. But it were enough for now.

“Tell me what happened,” he said, his lips brushing cold onto my cheek.

“I’m afraid of Gisbourne,” I said, my voice twisted and small. “He threatened me, and it were pure awful, Rob. The court made their cruel words, and Gisbourne were more than bothered by it.” I shook my head. “People have talked foul about me for so long, Rob, I bare notice it anymore. But he hates it. And he makes me pay for it.”

“People who don’t know you, Scar. Those that know you wouldn’t ever speak badly of you.”

“You don’t think?” I whispered.

He drew my hand up, kissing my fingers. “No.”

I held tight to his hand but pulled away a bit, tugging him to walk. “You didn’t lose your temper,” I noticed.

“Love,” he said soft, his thumb running over the bumps of my knuckles. “If I can keep my temper when you come to me and cry and I want to kill anyone that’s ever wronged you, trust me, I can stay calm when you just need someone to tell about it.” He pulled me closer again and kissed my temple, my cheek. “Besides,” he said, “something tells me you’re not explaining the worst of it.”

“I just feel lost,” I said. “In skirts and trying to talk a way that ain’t natural. Trying to be something I’m not—for him.”

He pulled me to him, hands running ’neath the guard’s cloak and over my sides, my hips. My body felt different in a dress, in the castle; my legs weren’t for running, my arms weren’t for climbing, my waist seemed important in a way it ain’t never been. In the forest, my middle were the part of me that were most soft without muscle or bone, so it needed to be protected, covered, hidden. In the castle it were on display, but it still felt like a weak spot. Vulnerable, which weren’t a thing I much liked.

But Rob’s hands on my waist felt like a thrill, like it were close and hidden, a secret place for him to touch. I let the reins drop as he kissed me and my body sparked over with fire like dry kindling. I pushed him back a bit against a tree, my hand desperate to touch a single part of him.

My hand slipped under his cloak, under his tunic and his shirt to bunch them up a bit. My hand were cold as it went, but I pushed it flat over his heart and let the heavy beat push warm into my hand. That was what I wanted from him.