Dear Lucia . . .
I wrote to Robin and told him all, finishing with my love to the Lady Marion, his wife. I sent it by secret messenger and demanded the man wait for a reply and thankfully only a few days passed before I received a packet. That’s the advantage of speedy caravels and the best and most fleet Raji horses.
Will you never learn? Aristocratic manners, strong features and you are anyone’s! Do you not remember Guy of Gisborne? We had to peel you off the ground every time the bastard rode past. Marion and I care not that de Fleury and Blakeney are Others. To be frank, a plague on both their houses!
Lucia, you must disassociate yourself immediately. There is no future in any sort of relationship with de Fleury or with Blakeney and his wife. You know what what happens to mortals who enter the Other world. You would be lost to us and we to you.
I would ask you to cast your mind back to Marion’s and my set-to with the Sheriff of Nottingham. We were incarcerated for many months with no one to release us. Lost to all. Eventually, my men prevailed – Much, Alan, the Fat Man, Little John and the others. But there will be no one to spring you from your prison.
Heed me, dear girl. There is nothing worse than a writer with no readers and that’s what happens when you are dropped in an oubliette.
You are ever my dearest and oldest friend.
Robin of Loxley.’