The Eternal Shadow

Chapter 57

LVII

"What is that?"

After his guests had left, Guy retired to the front row pews; a location that seemed to suggest he was expecting to get this show on the road any minute, his dejected posture however, suggested something else entirely.

In the immediate aftermath of Marian's collapse, it had naturally been his wish to stay at her side, but Thornton had insisted that he leave her care to Francesca and since he trusted her and recognised that he was the source of Marian's nervous distress, he'd wisely taken Thornton's advice.

Nevertheless, he was not a patient man, and it was on one of his bouts of restless pacing that he noticed something on the ground not far from the altar.

It was a piece of fabric. Clothing of some sort. Forgotten by a guest in haste to leave this joke of a wedding in favour of Nottingham and King Richard most likely.

He went to pick it up, intrigued by the colour and immediately recognised it as one of the scarves Francesca had shown him yesterday. The most recent addition to the garment only confirmed his suspicion.

Would recognise that family crest anywhere.

The smile that curled at the corner of his lips fell away at the sight of Marian's family crest beside it. He would've likely sunk further into dejection, reflecting on the sad state of affairs between himself and that lady were it not for the sight of something else on the scarf that he would recognise anywhere...

Blood.

Francesca!

His heart leapt into his mouth and his legs carried him forwards before he knew what he was doing. All he knew was that she was bleeding and he had to get to her.

But then he stopped.

Wait...

The realisation hit him so hard he literally staggered backwards.

Oh you fool.

He could've slapped himself.

There was nothing wrong with Francesca.

He couldn't say what happened next because he saw red, but Thornton would most certainly remember it for it was the first time his master had ever laid a hand upon him and the shock of it hurt almost as much as being forcefully shoved out of the way and landing hard upon the cold stone floor.

"Why is she bleeding?"

Francesca had her back to Guy. Her body shielding Marian. Eyes clenched tightly shut. Length curling in on itself in utter dread. She turned slowly to find Guy looming large in front of her with a bloodied scarf in his hand and a look on his face that made her want to disappear.

She said nothing. She didn't have to. Terror spoke for itself, didn't it? It certainly did as he made to move her out of the way for she winced as if he was about to strike her and it depresses him that she could think he ever would but this is soon replaced by a myriad of other emotions as he finally sees Marian.

She is beautiful, even sickly pale like this and he curses himself for being so taken in by her to notice it even now, but then he's always been blind when it came to her and he has a feeling he is about to find out just how stupidly blind he has been.

He smirks as his eyes drift to the cloak. He'd noticed it earlier but had thought no more of it other than to wonder why she was hiding her dress when he'd seen it already. He had swiftly dismissed it as some part of the ceremony he wasn't acquainted with, much like how he'd not known to wait for her inside the church and he could laugh at his naivety now.