The World Will Never Know You {Marian}

[isabel]

Only half-listening as her husband spoke to announce the purpose of the ball and welcome everyone there, Isabel took a moment to observe her ‘competition’: the other ladies who were present that evening. She saw many a low cut gown, and she told herself that she would have to stay especially close to John tonight if she had any hope of keeping his attention on herself, as it should be. After all, he was already handsome enough to have the ladies’ eyes on him as a prince, and it would only be worse when he became king soon, and he was all too eager to return their affections.

Her eyes fell on one lady in particular, one who was far too beautiful for Isabel not too hate. She could have been truly pretty, in the delicate sort of way, with her light hair, fair complexion, and blue eyes; but no, she looked like some kind of animal, wild and intelligent, and it was that which Isabel liked even less about her, because she had a feeling that her husband, after all the formality of court, would be attracted to someone just like that. She was not truly worried, because she knew her husband loved her and ultimately belonged to her and no one else, but still, she did not like this one bit.

When the talking was over and the dancing began, she and John shared the customary first dance before retiring to their thrones to observe the merriment, which was at a rather odd time, even she had to admit, but she was not complaining about the opportunity to look radiant even in such a tragic time. She kept her eyes on the woman, who was faintly familiar to her. Finally, the name came to her: Marian. She was associated with the Sheriff. Isabel’s lips curled in a cruel sort of smile. Oh, yes, the Sheriff.

She would have avoided her altogether if she could have, but her husband wished to talk to the Sheriff about that damned Robin, so she would be stuck talking to Marian, since they could not stand at their gentleman’s sides mutely. She gave a tight-lipped, polite smile to the woman. “How do you do,” she said, inclining her head in a patronizing sort of way. “I heard you’ve had an encounter with the horrible man yourself. It all sounds so terribly exciting. Do say the rumors are true.”

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[Marian Cooper]

Oh, how Marian hated balls. At least with banquets, she could get a bit to eat and then slip out a back entrance without too much fuss; but balls, they were truly dreadful. As usual, the Sheriff had insisted she be on his arm tonight, and as much as Marian hated being an ornament for any man to wave around and show off, she knew from experience that saying no simply wasn't an option. So here she was, all trussed up in a mass of petticoats and lace, in some fashionable style or another that the seamstress had cooed over like it was her firstborn child, with her hair teased back and pinned up prettily.

It was true that Marian was a sight to behold, and yet, there was something about her that gave her a distinctly un-ladylike edge. Some said her eyes looked feral, wild like something that was waiting for just the right moment to strike, and some said her smile held the wickedness of a devil in human form, but of course, no one would dare to say these things to Marian. She'd heard them all anyways, and laughed, and let them keeping whispering amongst themselves. Let them gossip as they wished; as long as no one bothered her, she couldn't care less.

Tonight, her eyes were less feral and more bored as she let the Sheriff sweep her around the room, murmuring pleasantries to those she had to greet with a smile that didn't reach her eyes, which spoke more of undergoing horrific tortures than enjoying a lovely evening with her fellow nobles. And of course, they had to make the rounds up to see the Prince and Princess; the Sheriff just loved that the banditry issues were giving him more face time with the Prince, but Marian had a feeling that this wasn't doing him any favors, since his inability to actually catch the bandits was a point of some...discontent, in the court.

As they approached the thrones, Marian found herself plastering on her best, tight-lipped smile and trying not to let it look as though it was causing her too much pain. She dipped into a curtsy before the throne, straightening up to look up at the princess as she deigned to speak with the lowly earl's daughter. "Quite well, Your Highness, thank you for inquiring." It was actual labor for her to keep the smile up to her eyes as she spoke to the princess, speaking somewhat more slowly than usual in order to achieve it. Then the princess asked her about the vagrant Robin Hood, and a wicked gleam flashed across her eyes. What should she tell the princess? The truth would surely be too much for her cultured little ears...and yet, wouldn't that be fun.

"Why yes, You Highness, I have. I met the man a few weeks back, when he broke into the castle to set the Sheriff's bed on fire." She continued smiling, and if one was watching, they might notice that some of the pain seemed to leave her face for just a moment, as genuine glee overcame her. Quickly compensating, she added, "it was ever so frightening." She used her best damsel-in-distress voice for that one, but even to her ears, it sounded like a mockery of true fear.

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[isabel]

It was not unusual to see a lady on a man’s arm, but if they were not married, it was one thing, since it was rare for a woman to spend more than one dance with a man with whom she was not romantically involved. And it was another thing for that man to be the Sheriff and the lady to be Lady Marian. To Isabel’s severe eye, they looked like a strangely mismatched pair, and though Marian appeared to be admirably attempting to uphold her role, it was clear that she was not comfortable in the current situation, and Isabel would wager that Marian would be off his arm and darting into the forest like an animal at any moment if she could.

In Isabel’s opinion, it was not believable when Marian said that she was doing quite well. After all, how could she, when she looked like such a horrid wild creature and she spent most of her time with the Sheriff? It wasn’t that the Sheriff was particularly dislikable, but Isabel vilified mistresses in general, since some of them had seized on her husband as possible prey, and she would not have any of those harlots getting pregnant with a bastard before she bore the prince a legitimate heir. But that was more or less forgotten for a moment at the sincere smirk that crossed Marian’s face when she began to speak. Why was she smiling like that?

“How terrifying,” she said, with less sympathy than she should have had, her dark eyes glittering with excitement. As much as being a princess had its perks, it did mean that she was rather sheltered, and she had not had an encounter with the bandit herself, only hearing a great number of stories about him. The man was probably proud of himself for becoming such a legend. And she was proud of herself for detecting the strangeness of Marian’s story. “So you were in the Sheriff’s bed when it was set on fire?” She seized on every opportunity for gossip, and though most people knew that Marian was the Sheriff’s mistress, it was ever-so-entertaining to see the reaction of announcing it in public.

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[Marian Cooper]

Marian had no desire to be any man's wife, much less his mistress. The Sheriff should've been well aware of that, after four years of rejection, but she supposed that perhaps it was to his credit that he simply wouldn't give up. Especially since, despite what the rumors would have one believe, Marian had never let the man tell her. No, she'd never bothered trying to get those rumors under control, either, partially because it was just fun. It made most of the irritating noblewomen turn their noses up at her and ignore her, which was just fine with Marian. She hated talking to them anyways.

Like right now. Oh yes, so terrifying to be in the same room as a wanted man; she preferred it to being in this hall of vultures, trussed up like a Feastday roast. She couldn't even defend herself in this ridiculous getup. Not that she thought there were be a call to arms at a party like this, but you never could tell. She was caught off guard when the princess changed gear and asked if she were in the Sheriff's bed when it was set on fire, and couldn't help but laugh loudly with amusement at her assumption. Of course the princess was up on the latest gossip from her subjects.

"How admirably distasteful of you, Your Highness. I didn't know you had it in you." Because it was certainly in poor taste for someone to comment on the activities of other's behind closed doors, especially if they had no direct knowledge themselves, even if that someone happened to be a princess. Marian sounded far more amused than offended, with even a hint of admiration towards the princess for her brazen audacity. If Marian were anyone else, she'd likely have a political faux pas on her hands.

"But of course not, princess. That would be terribly improper." Her tone from earlier of forced civility was gone; she wore a smirk that spoke of all manner of improper things, and the focused, dangerous gleam of a predator eying prey was back in her eyes ad she gazed into the pretty little princess' eyes. Her words carried an air of defiance, like she challenged the princess to dare and tell her she was lying.

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[isabel]

Oh, as if she even cared. She could do whatever she wanted – after all, she was the princess. If she wanted to find out about the sheriff and his mistress, then she could do so. She had access to everything, the whole kingdom lay at her fingertips. Even if they didn’t like her, even if they didn’t like the fact that she was more powerful than them, she was, and that was that. She had had her own sisters disinherited to get her father’s land and had disappointed many others to get John’s hand, so she was used to putting her desires above those of others, and had done so for so long that she no longer thought about the moral repercussions of it.

There were a lot of things in her that most people would not expect in a princess, after all, including malice and an ear for gossip. She would hardly expect Marian to be the one to lecture her on propriety, anyway. Since she probably really was the sheriff’s mistress; her gossips didn’t usually lie or get false information. But she could not really have expected such a thing to be confirmed in public. Disappointingly. Even though her husband and the sheriff were both standing right there, it appeared that neither of them were listening, both deeply engaged in conversation – probably about the bandit.

Robin of Locksley. His name seemed to be on everyone’s lips. Isabel knew next to nothing about him, herself, preferring to stay out of her husband’s matters of business other than to pretend she was listening as he complained to her. She just enjoyed the perks of the job and none of its trials. Though she had to say that at least she knew that even a robber was preferable to the sheriff, she should think. Especially for a wild sort of woman like she was making Marian out to be. Even Isabel was disturbed the smirk on her face. “Oh yes, it would be,” she said, referring to being a mistress, not to asking about it, though both were true. “Though if it were the case, I am certain the bandit did not see what he had been expecting.” She said this with shocking nonchalance. “Perhaps he was entertained - he is a ruffian.” Her eyes challenged Marian to deny it.

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[Marian Cooper]

Marian just laughed as the princess went on about the bandit, and apparently they were still on whether or not Marian was a whore. She wondered how long it would be before the princess was assassinated...not long, if this was how she spoke to all her nobles. No, Marian figured that this was special just for her; maybe tonight she'd lob a few arrows up into the royal bedchamber once they were asleep. It probably wouldn't even wake them, but wouldn't it be funny when they woke up and found arrows sticking out of the bedpost? They'd blame the bandit. Oh, she knew how she'd be spending her night.

In a way, the Princess was right. 'The Bandit' had been surprised to see Marian...sneaking around the upper floors dressed like a man. She supposed Isabel would be quite interested to learn exactly what things she had happened there, but she wouldn't find out from Marian. So unless Robin of Locksley stopped in for afternoon tea with Her Royal Highness, she wouldn't find out about that anytime soon...Marian liked that she had a secret from this woman who so clearly wanted to know everything that was going on around her.

"You'll have to forgive me, your Highness. I'm not terribly imaginative." She answered with a smiled, and from her tone, one could tell that whatever the princess was fishing for, Marian wasn't going to deliver. In fact, she was about finished letting the princess play out her assumptions. "I must say, Princess, your dress is simply remarkable. I don't believe I've seen it before, either. I suppose the crown must be well on its way to paying for our dear King's return, for you to indulging in such finery." She said with false sweetness, since everyone knew about the Prince and his wife's fine tastes, despite the fact that they had yet to pay the king's ransom.

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[isabel]

“There is nothing to forgive,” Isabel replied primly, waving her hand as if in a gesture of dismissal. So much the better if Marian was exciting. For some reason she did not paint Marian as the type to go after her husband, but she did know that she seemed like a wild and exciting type, and lately John had accused her of not being exciting, so she was glad that she had been wrong, at least according to what Marian said (if not how she looked). It was petty of her, but it has already been stated that she did not care about morality much.

She smiled tightly at Marian’s compliment, mostly because she had not been expecting it, and then when she realized that it was not at all meant sincerely. Ah, court was almost never sincere, but that, she had come to expect, and there was a sort of comfort in the familiarity of it. “You are far too kind,” Isabel replied, her voice dripping with false gratefulness. “You are right in saying that the crown is going to pay for our dear king’s return soon.”

Reveling in her triumph that was to come, she continued, “However, you may rest assured that it is going to be spent on that and not frippery, since the money for this dress came from my own land – I suppose you might know what that’s like, and how good of you not to spend so much on a dress; how kind of you to sacrifice your own appearance in order to provide for our king’s safe return!” She smiled too sweetly. She never missed an opportunity to return a not-so-subtle jab if she could help it.

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[Marian Cooper]

Ah, excellent. Her comment about both the princess' dress and the crown's money had the desire effect, moving the princess from questioning Marian about her after-hours activities to being on the defensive; which for Isabel, also meant the offensive. It was hard to have a conversation with a fellow noble that didn't involve backhanded compliments and people subtly undermining your position...and people wondered why Marian preferred hunting in the woods.

A look of mock confusion crossed Marian's face at Isabel's supposed triumph. "Oh, your Highness, don't you mean your husband's lands?" Women might govern their own lands before they were married, or after their husband's death if they had children who would inherit the land later, but a married woman in control of her own lands? Such a thing would bring shame on any man, and as soon as a woman married, her lands were her own no longer, and transferred into her husband's name. Marian was all too familiar with it, since when her sister had married, their family's lands had become Lord William Marshal's lands. Her mother still lived there, but only at his behest.

Hence, Marian had no lands to speak of; her money came in the form of an allowance from her sister's husband, who again, controlled the women of her family. Marian hated it, but what could she do? She only smiled when Isabel 'complimented' her efforts; she had no idea if her dress was stylish or not, or even if Isabel's dress was in fashion, because she didn't care. The Sheriff had bought the fabric for the dress for her, and then Marian had let the seamstress make whatever she liked with it, so she had no idea how much this rig had cost, but she was sure it was far too much. "All for King and Country, of course, your Highness."

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[isabel]

Oh, if only they were alone and Isabel could give this woman the scowl she deserved; but alas, she could not, and so she had to stick to the damned training that she’d had to go through hours of just for all of her tutors and the lords who had tired aforementioned tutors could assure themselves that she was prepared to be a princess with tact and grace. Ah, they had no idea; if they could see her now, and what she’d gotten herself into, it was too late for tact, and they would have hidden their faces in shame.

“Oh, they are now, I suppose,” Isabel finally said flippantly. “They used to be mine, of course, but everything went to him now that we’re married. A charming place; makes thousands of pounds a year, enough for a dozen dresses.” She smiled faintly, as if thinking of a quaint little place far away, someplace that she would much rather be than here having to talk to Marian. But then the glazed look in her eyes went away and she shook her head slightly as if to clear it. “Pardon me for being so rude. I don’t suppose you would know about it. They aren’t really that famous, after all.”

Certainly not in comparison to the fact that she was now princess. But even the land was certainly more than Marian was able to say for herself, as far as Marian knew. “Oh, yes,” Isabel said gravely. She waved over a servant, and had a glass of wine, requesting for her husband to toast to his brother. He did so, and Isabel raised her glass with a grave expression to Henry’s health before delicately sipping its contents.

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[Marian Cooper]

If they were alone, Marian couldn't promise she wouldn't beat the pretty princess until she wasn't quite so pretty anymore...but of course, they were in the great hall, and grabbing the princess by her perfectly coiffed hair and hauling her down off the throne probably wouldn't go over so well, alas, and instead Marian just smiled sweetly. No one had spent any time teaching Marian to lie; she was just naturally gifted that way. Or maybe it came from spending more time telling lies than dancing and fluffing her hair.

"Well, that certainly does explain more than it doesn't." She said giddily, giving a giggle and her best daft little lady expression after the princess went on about how wealthy her lands were; it certainly did explain why the prince would want to marry her, if her lands were as valuable as she claimed. In all honesty, she didn't doubt that the princess' appearance was a comfort to the Prince, but in all honesty, Marian could believe that John 'Lackland', as he was known, would be willing to marry just about any woman if she came with such a rich dowry.

After the princess convinced her husband to raise a toast, Marian accepted the goblet a servant rushed over to her, and of course she drank deeply to the health of their king; she noted how the princess and the other ladies only sipped at their drinks delicately, although afraid their goblets might bite, and Marian gave soft, derisive snort as she lowered her glass. The whole court might think her without manners for the way she drank, but they already thought that, and this was one thing she could get away with. She titled her head back and emptied her goblet in a second gulp.

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[isabel]

Isabel wasn’t sure what was meant by that, but nor did she plan on asking, because she had a feeling that Marian was going to tell her, anyway. Both of them must be aware that they did not like each other very much, and this false civility they displayed was like treading on thin ice. She gave a tight-lipped smile, her only response, and did not laugh along to Marian’s insipid laughter. And people thought she was shallow! Oh, if only they knew… But people knew more about her than she would have cared, sometimes.

But such was just part of being a princess. And that had many perks, even though it meant having to spend time – or waste time, to be more accurate – talking to people like Marian. It was clear that she was intelligent enough, even though she certainly didn’t act like it most of the time, but she was strangely pretty in an untamed sort of way that struck Isabel in quite the wrong way. The way she acted around men was the final reason why Isabel didn’t like her, and why she was sure they would never get along.

She watched with wide eyes as Marian downed all of her wine with shocking expediency, quite unable to comment upon it for a moment. “You must be thirsty,” she finally observed, waving the man over for another goblet. “Please, do take some more; it isn’t as if we’re going to run out.” She smiled slightly. “Well, I do hope you enjoy your evening, Lady Marian, but unfortunately there are far too many people who wish to have me speak with them, and I ought to go content them.” She lifted her chin a little, waiting for Marian to curtsy in dismissal. "Thank you for your delightful conversation."

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[Marian Cooper]

Accepting the second goblet that the princess waved over for her, Marian smiled wolfishly at Isabel, and gave a grateful nod. "I suddenly find myself quite parched, thank you, your Highness." Marian replied, taking another indulgent swig from the goblet. No, the princess and Marian weren't likely to be the best of friends, because they were far too dissimilar to get along. Isabel was ambitious, a social-climber and a gossip who desired nothing more than power; not someone Marian was likely to trust.

Finishing her second goblet, Marian handed the empty goblet back to the servant before she dipped into a curtsy before the princess as she was dismissed. It seemed the prince and the sheriff were done talking now, and hence, the women's conversation was also at an end. Thank goodness. "Of course, your Highness. I didn't mean to monopolize your precious time. Do have a pleasant evening." She smirked up at her, then turned to take the Sheriff's arm as he whisked her back into the ball at large, seeming none too pleased with the conversation he'd just shared with the prince.

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