“Of course you agree, because you can’t understand anything I say. You’re like a dog. You’re exactly like these criminals, you and Will Scarlet and Elena Gamwell, none of you understand what’s really going on here.” He tugged his breeches free and started unclasping his doublet. “I think I’ll probably kill them tomorrow. I can’t risk them defying me.” From his boot, he pulled a thick knife. “Now take your dress off before I cut it off you.”

Her guts were stone. They sank her, they bore down through her and further.

She closed her eyes.

Then, a knock at the door, and he quickly blew out the lantern. In pitch black she moved without thinking, leaping from the bed to where the lantern had been, her fingers screaming for its frame, ready to sling it into the captain’s skull. But her fear betrayed her, her legs stumbled from the bed, she smashed into the wall and his hand found the back of her neck. She told herself to fight back, but her body gave up. Muffled, from the other side of the door, “Captain Gisbourne, are you in there? I thought I saw you go in there. I have some rather urgent news.”

No movement.

“Captain Gisbourne?” The door moved a breath against its hinges.

“Yes, Marshall,” Gisbourne called softly.

Marshall Sutton, the guard who had approached Arable earlier. She would trade him any favor in the world if he would just come inside at this very moment.

Gisbourne pretended to yawn. “Just thought I’d catch a few moments of sleep, could you give me an hour or so?”

“I think you’ll want to see this right away, Captain. Sorry, Captain.”

Gisbourne sighed. “Wait for me, then, I’ll be out in a moment.”

Another rustle of buckles and clothing, a jangling violent nonsense with whispered curses behind them. Then the air shifted, he was right on top of her, the heat of his breath on her mouth, “You will come to my quarters tonight, and you will do anything I want, or I swear every Guardsman in the castle will know how you spied on Jon Bassett, how you’re to blame for his disappearance. I have had enough of not getting the things I deserve.”

Then the air shifted again, the doorframe opened and light from the hallway poured into the room. Gisbourne’s shape disappeared, his voice mixing with Marshall’s as they marched out and away.

Arable put her hands over her lips and clenched her eyes as tight as she could. Her skin was clammy, and she massaged her swollen jaw. There was blood in her mouth, and her tongue found a sharp cut in her cheek. The pain was better than the numb, though, and she pushed her tongue against it, just to keep feeling something, anything.