Over the next few days, Regina would find herself staring at him as he led them through the forest. Sometimes she'd catch him watching her, usually when Roland was being his adorable little self and clambering all over her lap. They spoke just as much as they had before, but a certain dynamic had changed. He often touched her for almost no reason at all - a brush of the fingers as he handed her something, a hand on her back as he approached her from behind or sat down next to her. Every moment of contact, however fleeting, sent a barely-suppressed shiver through her and she lay awake at night, beating herself up for giving in to his looks (for he was very good-looking, she had to finally let herself admit it), his prowess with a bow and in leading a team, his love for his son. The sudden showers at night had led to him joining her and Roland in the tent, and it was a lot cosier. So much so that the lack of sufficient blankets wasn't an issue. They'd alternate with telling Roland stories, Regina with her fairytales and Robin with his anecdotes. Whether any of them were true she had yet to find out but they made for very entertaining stories as they lay with Roland between them.
***
During breakfast a few days after that rainstorm, Robin drew close to her and spoke low.
"Regina, we're passing near the road now and there might be some carriages we can help the poor with. Would you be able to look after Roland for me?"
"Of course."
"And there might be the need for a couple of surprise shots so I wondered if you could be just out of sight, on standby in case anything happens?"
"Are you sure? I've never even hit the bullseye."
"You've almost hit it enough times in a row for me to know you could hit something with relative accuracy. The bullseye's tiny, anyway, and can I remind you that you have never missed the target." He was slightly scolding her for her insecurities with the last statement, she could tell.
"All right then, I'll do it. And Roland will be quite safe with me."
"Roland's always safe with you. Possibly more safe than he is with me."
"Robin, don't say that. You've done an excellent job with him."
"It's just that, whenever we'd do one of these pillages, he'd either be left on his own or we'd be one man down. I can't carry him into the fray with me and the poor depend on these being successful."
"It must be difficult."
"It is. Since his mother died in childbed, he's all I have. I can't lose him."
Regina was silent at this unexpected insight into the outlaw's past. A common cause of death, but none the less upsetting for its frequency. She laid her hand on his, trying to comfort him. He squeezed her fingers momentarily before letting go, the touch all too brief for Regina whose lips still tingled with the memory of the kiss they'd shared.
Around lunchtime, Robin suddenly stopped and put his ear to the ground.
"Right, there's a carriage coming. Places!" Everyone ran to a clearly pre-set, well-rehearsed spot around the path, and Regina found a bush with enough of a gap to shoot through. Roland hid behind her skirts. When Robin saw where she'd placed herself, he gave her an approving nod from his spot across the road and aimed his bow.
At his nod, everyone fired a warning arrow at the carriage. But Regina froze, suddenly petrified. She collapsed to the ground, leaning against the trunk of the bush, her legs unable to hold her up. She could hear everything in slow motion: the shouts of the Merry Men, the snorting of the frightened horses and the thuds of warning arrows hitting the carriage.
It seemed to last forever, when in reality it was only a few minutes. When it was over, Roland, who'd been holding his cry in ever since she collapsed, knelt beside her and called her name.
"Gina! Gina!" Over and over again. She wanted to reach out and pull him into her, but her limbs felt like lead. She couldn't move if her life depended on it.
She heard silence, then a voice, then Robin fell to his knees beside her, the sack of loot momentarily forgotten. She felt his strong arms around her, lifting her, supporting her, and warmth flooding through her. She started to regain some control of her limbs and her tongue unstuck itself from the roof of her mouth as he cradled her head.
"Regina, speak to me. What happened?"
"Robin, I am so sorry. That carriage... It was my fiancé's." It took a second for him to figure out.
"Wait, the King? You're engaged to the King, of all people?" She nodded slowly, unable to look him in the face though they were only inches apart.
"Please tell me he didn't see you."
"I don't think he did. I just saw the outside of the carriage, and of course recognised the crest. I think my mother was in there with him."
"Pardon my bluntness, but the harsh-faced lady?"
"That's the one."
"You don't look at all alike."
"People used to say the exact opposite but I never believed it." The men had now gathered around and she felt awkward, lying in his arms in such an intimate way in public. The tent was one thing, the forest floor was another entirely. She wriggled out of his grasp, embarrassed.
"I think I'm all right now, thank you." He helped her up, and Roland hugged her as high as he could reach, which wasn't far.
"Can we talk about this later?" she whispered as they passed each other. He nodded, slinging his bow across his shoulder and picking up the sack. Regina put her arms round the distraught boy, trying to reassure him that she wasn't going to die on him.
They lit a fire and had a celebratory lunch, but both Robin and Regina were quiet. She because she had been one turn of the head away from being caught and arrested (and probably forced to the marriage bed, which would be enough to sombre anyone's mood) he because... she had no idea why he was so quiet. Her romantic heart entertained the idea that he was either jealous, or genuinely worried for her safety; her brain belied the last one, saying of course he'd be worried if she got caught because then he would be too, and he'd committed far more crimes than she had.
The rest of the day was smooth: they found a small village and distributed the stolen goods. The villagers clearly knew Robin by name as he was greeted like a war hero, and children clung to his legs. She stayed in the woods, hidden by the trees, as he didn't want her reputation to be tainted. Also, after the near escape earlier, they were both on the watch for anyone who might possibly recognise her, from when they announced the King's engagement, and turn her in.
***
Regina woke the next morning feeling tired and grumpy after a broken night's sleep, and still thoroughly annoyed at herself for failing the men when they needed her. Roland had been fidgety, and her nightmare of the stable had returned, but instead of Daniel's dark hair and eyes and smooth face, it was sandy blonde hair on the head she cradled in her lap, and the face she kissed was rough to the touch. She'd woken about five times during the night, and each time had taken an hour or two to drop off again. It disconcerted her to say the least, and as a result she wasn't a very pleasant person that day. She knew it, and tried to keep away from everyone as much as possible because it wasn't their fault she was in a bad mood. She even shunned Roland, accidentally snapping at him when he pestered her for a ride on Jerry when he wasn't in the least tired. She shouldn't have let that bother her, but it was the fear speaking, the fear of falling in love with someone she'd be leaving relatively soon, whose son she already felt like a mother to. Also, just the knowledge that she'd been within a few metres of her own mother made the anger bubble up in her throat again.
After she'd snapped at Roland, he'd scampered back to his father and she'd fallen back from the others slightly to clear her head and calm herself down. Jerry trotted slowly, the regular rise and fall helping her relax and soon she was seeing less red and more green. She still kept apart from them until they stopped to eat, just in case, as she wasn't sure Roland would have forgiven her yet.
When she did join them, they were already tucking in to the cold meat from yesterday. Robin shifted over for her like the gentleman he was, but the rest ignored her. She took her lunch and went to sit apart from them until they were ready to set off, ashamed of herself though she wasn't quite sure what she'd done that was so bad it merited being outcast.
She hadn't been sitting there for very long when she heard a twig snap behind the tree she was sitting against.
"Who is it?" she called half-heartedly. She really wasn't in the mood for talking right now, but her expression softened when Roland stuck his head round the trunk, his hands hidden under his cloak.
"Oh, hello, Roland. I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier."
"It's ok. I picked these for you. I thought you needed cheering up and Papa says ladies always like flowers." He held a bunch of wildflowers out in both hands, his little face filled with hope. While she wondered if Robin had asked him to give them to her she could never resist those dimples. She reached out and took them, bringing them to her nose and letting their sweet scent overwhelm her.
"Thank you, dear, they're really lovely." She'd always been fond of natural flowers, much preferred them to the pristine roses grown in her mother's greenhouses. She was surprised when he knelt down and kissed her on the cheek.
"I'm sorry I upset you."
"Oh, Roland, you didn't. I was just in a grumpy mood." She kissed his cheek in return, making him blush red as a cherry which made her smile for the first time all day. He snuggled down, head in her lap, as she tucked the flowers into her belt.
"Do you like Papa?" he asked, after a few minutes just lying there.
"In what way?" she asked automatically before she could stop herself, the question taking her by surprise.
"There's two ways of liking someone?" He sat up and cocked his head to the side, puzzled by this concept. Regina mentally slapped herself. How was she going to explain this?
"Well... you can like someone like your Papa likes Much, and Will, and Friar Tuck, and Richard, you know the word friends?" Roland nodded, "...and you can also like someone like a mama likes a papa." She said the last quietly, not quite sure if he would be all right with her bringing up the touchy subject of mothers. To her relief, he didn't burst into tears. He didn't seem like the kind of boy who burst into tears on a whim, anyway.
"Do you like Papa like a mama?"
This was getting increasingly awkward by the minute. What was she supposed to say? Yes, I love your Papa but we can never be together because I am engaged to someone else and anyway I hadn't planned on falling in love again so when I ran away this wasn't an issue? Definitely not. But then she couldn't lie and say she saw him solely as a friend, because he had become so much more than that in the few weeks she'd known him. Mentor, teacher, protector (though he had admitted himself that she didn't need one), even a form of saviour. Plus she suspected Roland had a knack for telling when someone was lying to him.
She was saved answering by the man himself coming upon their little hideout.
"There you are, Roland, I wondered where you'd gone."
"So... you didn't tell him to give me these?" She gestured to the flowers in her belt. Robin looked surprised.
"No. I didn't even know he was picking them."
It took a couple of seconds for her to get over the shock that a four-year-old had more chivalry than the very King himself.
But then he was raised by a man who steals from the rich to give to the poor, she remembered.
***
The rest of the day passed quietly, the men still mostly ignoring her. They only started talking to her again that evening when Roland ran at her and she swung him into the air before settling him on her hip, touching her nose to his as she tucked him in. From the 180 degree change from hostile to friendly, she deduced that if she wanted to stay in their favour, she needed to be nice to Roland. The slightly childish way they had of showing their loyalty to the boy made her laugh at them slightly, but it was still touching.