"He escaped his prison," she confirmed, knowing where his mind was going. "But we stopped him. Locked him away again. Seems we're still trapped here, though." Not that she minded. Oh, Marian wanted to go home about as much as she wanted to be left for dead out in the desert. For all the strange things that happened in Lawrence, like having her tiny husband at her side, at least she was alive. She was happy. Robin was with her and he loved her openly, for the world to see. And they would soon bring a new life into the world, little Edward or Eleanor, who would be the most loved child the twenty-first century had to offer. But Robin couldn't know why she wanted to stay. He could never know that he would grow up, go to war, only to lose everything. Including her and, eventually, his own life.
She realised, though, she'd already said too much where her mother was concerned. She took a breath and released it slowly. A white lie wouldn't hurt, she supposed. "Quite a while," she told him, which was sort of true. "I haven't seen her in many years." The boy was obviously fond of the Lady Katherine, and Marian wouldn't break his heart if she could help it.
His laugh hadn't changed much over the years. Oh, it was lower pitched in adult hood. And far more rare. But it still had the same ring to it. And it made her smile. "I know he loves me. But he regrets not having a song. I'm not upset about it anymore. It's fine. That's what he has you for." His brushing off his parents didn't come as a surprise to her. It was hardly the first time. Instead, she simply reached out and gave his small, frail shoulders a squeeze. Those shoulders were already starting to show the signs of having too much of the world placed on them. It would get worse long before it got better.