Since William was already dead, he saw no point in hiding the antagonism he felt. “Would that make you feel better, if I bowed?” he asked, feeling proud of his final words.

Prince John’s only response was a large affected frown, and another few advancing steps. As he hop-stepped closer, navigating the open spaces between wooden benches, he pointed one accusatory finger forward.

“You’re not Guy of Gisbourne,” he said at last.

“You know, my entire life,” William cocked his head, “I’ve always noticed that.”

“Is he alive?”

“Gisbourne? Probably. The world is yet to surprise me with good news, so he’s probably healthier than ever.”

The prince pursed his lips into a farcical pout. “It’s just strange, because I appointed Gisbourne to Sheriff, and instead you’re the Sheriff. Did you think maybe I’m insane? Were you hoping I wouldn’t notice? Let’s see…” he stretched his arms out and twirled back to his companion, “… whether or not I’m insane. Hadrian.”

At this, the swordsman loped forward and relinquished his weapon to the prince, who strained to pick it up, mocking its weight. “Oh my. This is … this is grueling. How do you carry this?”

He gave it an exploratory lift into the air, then let its heft fall down with ferocity into the nearest table, smashing a wooden bowl into splinters. “Where’s Gisbourne?”

“Gisbourne isn’t here,” William said, eyeing the weapon.

“We’re going to play a game. I haven’t decided what the rules are yet. The game is this … I’m going to swing this sword, until you die. It’s not much of a game, for you, I suppose. I’m really bad with these things.”

He pulled the sword up behind his head and made a massive slash in William’s general direction, the tip cleaving down and glancing over the top of a table to splash its contents in every direction. “Oh look, I’m just terrible at this! But I’m a quick student, so I think you’d best explain yourself quicker.”

“Gisbourne left the castle. He’s searching for Robin Hood.”

“Robin Hood.” The prince lowered the sword just long enough to snap his fingers at the man named Hadrian. “Everyone loves that Robin Hood. I do, too, actually. Charming fellow, and good at what he does. Killing sheriffs, that is. I was thinking of giving it a try myself. And my, you’re a sheriff, aren’t you?”

Another feigned attack, the sword went sweeping wide and obvious, but close enough this time that William stepped backward.

“I’m so sorry, did I get too close to you? You really don’t need to be afraid, you can see I don’t know what I’m doing with this thing.” Prince John accentuated his sentence with a final practiced flourish that left the blade frozen in readiness.