She knew she'd brought this on herself. She'd all but invited him to join her. And, at the time, it had seemed a good idea. Maybe if she finally spoke with him, he'd leave her alone. Or maybe, somehow, she could find a way to forgive him. Robin had every intention of killing him when she'd first told him and maybe she should have let him. Or maybe she should have taken the action herself. Proven that she wasn't afraid of him by being the one to pull the sword this time.
But instead, she paused on hearing his voice, her eyes flickering from the ground where she'd been looking to the direction from where he'd spoken. And there he was. Still tall and handsome and so incredibly dark. But there were changes, subtle though they were. The way he wore his hair, the way he carried himself. And the look in his eyes. He didn't wear that annoying smugness that had been so common for him. There was something darker about him. Fear, maybe, or at least uncertainty.
Marian hesitated before she spoke. She wasn't surprised to see him. Rather, she was surprised it had taken so long for him to join her on her morning walk. From his words, she'd thought certain he'd have shown up that very next morning. But he'd waited. Scared or just giving her time? She wasn't certain.
"Sir Guy," she acknowledged, giving a little tilt of her head. She fought to keep her voice steady, and her arms remained folded in front of her so he couldn't see the slight shake in her hands. While she couldn't say she was actually afraid of him, she knew how unpredictable he could be. Even long before his blade had touched her, he'd been known to give in to fits of temper and she'd been well aware of it. Few knew him as she did. Which, in the end, had been her undoing, hadn't it? "I suppose we can," she replied, flicking her tongue anxiously across her lips. She couldn't meet his eyes. It was nearly impossible. Instead, she focused on a random point at his chest, near his shoulder. Much easier.