“This was suicide,” he said, taking a rare chance to breathe, his face pressed to the fresh air slipping through the crenel in the cold stone walls of the keep’s staircase. He felt Arable’s hands on his back, patting him, rubbing back and forth as if she could abate his woes the way one pets a dog. “I should have left with Robin. Once I realized he wouldn’t help me … I didn’t think this through.”

“You’re doing the right thing,” she whispered, petting him again.

“It would have been the right thing if Robin had helped me.” He slapped the stones. “If I had apprehended his group, I might have had a shot at this. I couldn’t imagine he would choose not to help.”

“You can still do this.”

“I don’t know that I can.” William glanced down the staircase, but he had not heard anything. He just wanted to twist away, so that she’d stop petting him. “Nobody believes de Lacy appointed me his successor, and why should they? A sudden reappointment the same night he’s murdered? It was stupid. I didn’t think it through. I look like a damned collaborator! Nobody believes it, they’re dying to challenge me on it.”

“They’re shaken,” she said, her voice soft. “Nobody knows what to do. You rose up and took control. They’ll listen to you. People just need to be told what to do. They’re scared.”

“They know I’m a fraud,” William whispered. “And what’s the point? Why am I even trying to be the sheriff, with what has happened? I wanted to bring Robin’s people in for peace talks, and that’s not an option anymore. I should just leave this to Gisbourne. He’ll—”

“Don’t say that.” Her voice turned to ice. She turned him around briskly. Arable’s face was red and puffy, which made the scars stand out all the more. “He’s why you have to do this. You’re the only competent person in Nottingham right now. Of course that’s going to frustrate you. But it’s the reason we need you.”

William was humbled by his own selfishness. “I’m sorry. I know. It’s just … it’s just so much.”

He hadn’t even explained the depths of the situation to her. The sheriffcy was in absolute chaos. William had hoped to reshape the tax laws in ways that would feel just to the landholders as well as prevent them from abusing their vassals. But neighboring lords like Lord Oughtibridge were already in a state of revolt, and the city’s master tax assessor Arnold de Nottoir apparently had no records at all of their individual debts. It was absolute anarchy, and it would take William months to set it straight. And that was only if he were allowed to focus on such problems.