“Then what was the point of coming here?” the Young Bear fumed. “You told me I would be the Sheriff in Nottingham. I made considerable arrangements to leave my post at Warwick. Am I supposed to simply return and pretend this never happened?”

“Do not use such a tone with us,” Margery scolded him, “when you had as little to do with earning this title as you did with your current one.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Quiet!” the earl shouted, a paralyzing intensity about him. “Let me think this out! Prince John has betrayed me, that much is certain—”

“He did not betray you. You aren’t important enough to betray. He simply ignored you, as one does a fly.”

“I don’t care what you call it, Margery! We made a deal, and he chose to break it. He chose that. He knew we would all come here, thinking he would keep his word.” He chomped his jaw shut, quickly, then took a half step back. “I don’t think we’re safe here.”

Margery laughed, but it seemed hollow.

“If Prince John wants control of Nottingham for himself, he would do anything to secure it. And he knows my plans are not in line with his. His first step would be to remove any threat to his power here. My God, son, that’s why he wants you on the gallows the day of the funeral. A few phony accusations, and he may hang you alongside his outlaws as a conspirator!”

The young captain’s mouth dropped, he turned to his mother for appeal. Her own jaw had done the same.

He pivoted to his father. “I’ll summon my men.”

“We must leave as soon as possible, if not sooner.”

Both went to action, gathering their belongings, as Margery stood baffled between them. “We can’t leave now, we can’t leave before the funeral.”

“It’s not a funeral for de Lacy,” the earl warned her, “it’s a funeral for us.”

“That’s ridiculous. We can’t leave now.”

“Don’t question me on this, Margery!” The earl was suddenly invigorated, and whatever strength he lacked before came now with precision. “You have no idea the people we are dealing with, and what they will do to accomplish their goals. I misjudged Prince John. I thought he would be on our side, but he is something else, something else entirely. He has set a trap for me. Look at this place, this grand bedroom! They’ve been begging us to stay.”

Margery wilted, and Arable knew why. She had grown somewhat fond of Nottingham—she’d confided as much in their private talks. The work she had done to revive the markets, the subtle politicking she had done with both de Lacy and William, she was watching it unravel uselessly through her fingers. “We can’t leave…”

“We can and will,” her husband spat.