“Prince John supports me!” William threw his hands out wide. “He’s here! He’s … two floors down! Shall we go ask him together?”

“Then I’ll take it to the Chancellor,” Robin answered. “I’ll send a message to Richard himself and detail every step of your treason. What, then, will be the point of marrying Marion? Step down, William!”

“And then what?” William erupted, his face flush. “Who will take my place? If not Gisbourne, then who? You and I should know better than anyone. It doesn’t matter who wears the crown, the orders are the same. If you kill the king, there’s another one behind him. What did killing Roger de Lacy get you? Me. What would denouncing me get you? Hm? This man, perhaps.” He flung his hand at Ferrers. “William de Ferrers, why not? His father is the Earl of Derbyshire, so let’s make him Sheriff. So, what would you do if you were Sheriff, Ferrers?”

Again, the lad’s answer was immediate. “I’d raze the forest.”

“You see?” William snapped his teeth together, turning his back to Robin. “I can make this better! I can enforce peace over revenge! This isn’t a war. You don’t win by killing the most people! There are those who would sit here and do just that. We should be working together—I need your help Robin, but all you offer me are threats.”

“You call it peace,” Robin sighed, “but you’re building it on lies. Peace needs to be built with trust, William. It will all come crumbling down when your corruption is exposed, and you’ll do far more damage in the long run. You’re not creating anything. All you’re doing is destroying.”

William struggled for words, because they couldn’t support him. His voice was strained, he was begging, because it was all he could do. “I am Nottingham’s only hope.”

“What you are,” Robin’s lips tightened, “is a tyrant.”

They both gasped for air, eyes red, almost at tears. William opened his arms wide, every word slick with emotion. “How long have you known me?”

He took a half step forward until his chest met the point of Robin’s sword. And he leaned. He pushed his weight onto its tip, forcing Robin to pull back a hair. William grabbed the sword with both hands and centered it on his chest. Once more he pushed forward, he winced briefly in pain but Robin instinctively pulled the sword away. He saw the blood, he saw the faces of the men he’d already killed this night, and suddenly his composure cracked to realize who he was threatening.

His sword dropped to his side. Robin’s entire body sagged with exhaustion, and the two stared at each other, utterly barren.

“I won’t kill you.” Robin had nothing of his own to call a voice. “But I won’t back down on this.”