The rain is coming down in sheets, but instead of being gloomy, it brightens up my mood. The water’s melody is singing out all over the forest. Not to mention the glorious rainbow that such a storm promises.

“Mistress Robin, the coach is ready for you.” The speaker, a naturally large man, visibly tries to shrink as he comes towards me.

“Edward, I’ve told you and the men before that calling me Arai will be fine.”

“Yes, Lady Arai… Lady Arai, your coach is ready.” I contemplate rolling my eyes, but as he may be idiotic enough to mistake it as a death sentence warning, I just follow him to the carriage. Sometimes having a person’s respect can be more of a bother, especially when it comes from fear.

Of course being garbed as a lady of the court doesn’t help lessen the mindless lower class towards superior attitudes. Though the silken blue dress would be beneath someone of my previous stature, it is still much more elegant than a commoner may wear. Only our best for Papa Joe’s little angel, especially if it’s for a job.

With my cloak as protection from the downpour, I hurry behind Edward to my waiting coach.

***

Almost hidden in the rain, a coach leans, stagnant, on its right side due to the front wheel on that side breaking. The chill that accompanies such heavy rain starts creeping through the passenger's fur covers, and she prays that someone comes soon and that everyone can endure till help comes.

She is about to suggest that one or two of the more fragile men who accompanied her seek shelter from the rain in the faded carriage, when she hears a hopeful murmur from outside. An elegant black carriage drawn by white horses comes into view.

“Finally, someone’s come, my Lady.” The relief in the chilled voice of the driver warms the hope in her that they will stop.

And then from the other coach comes the word her whole party is hoping for- “Halt!”

****

Prince Zephaniah is not having a good day. There are many places he'd rather be during such a storm. That meadow he likes to have lunch in comes to mind. He could sit under the grove of trees just listening to the rain’s harmony or simply let the drizzle wash over him.

But instead he is stuffed in a coach that most would deem “of the highest luxury” or something along those lines; he just thinks of it as an oversized padded box on wheels. Maybe a coffin would better fit with the prince’s feelings of confinement. And that is just the actual trip, which in Zephaniah’s opinion could at least be more tolerable if Timothy had let him open a window; the worst part is what waits at the end. The conclusion of the journey promises the court socializing he abhors at yet another eligible maiden’s home.

Must act like a proper prince: must not complain, must not even sigh, even if Timothy is the only one present.

“Sir, the driver says another carriage has been spotted on the side of the road ahead. What do you wish to do, my prince?”

It takes Zephaniah but a moment to decide. They might need help. But I don’t feel like dealing with anyone. On the other hand, a break, however small, would be nice. And I may even need to open the door, allowing a breeze in. “Tell William we’ll stop to see if they need assistance.” Timothy calls out the order to halt.

As they pull up parallel to the coach it is noticed that it is most assuredly wrecked, and the instant they stop, a youth of around fifteen years rushes up to the black carriage.

“Please, my Lady has been in the cold too long. I beg you; take her with you at least to the next town. You can be sure you will be greatly rewarded for your help.” Timothy, speaking on behalf of Zephaniah, agrees to let the noblewoman ride with them, declines any reward, and even offers to leave men with her escort to move the coach. The offer is respectfully refused.

The prince wonders what kind of woman could earn so much respect and concern, which is the only reason he is watching the scene that takes place in the small area between the two carriages. A large man is apparently having an argument with the occupant of the coach and he looks to be barely winning. Finally, with a smirk, he picks up and carries a lady of eighteen to the waiting black carriage.

Zephaniah's breath catches. She is the most beautiful girl he can ever remember seeing. She has a familiar beauty to her. Perchance they had met once at a slightly younger age, probably at one of his parents' annoying masquerade balls.

Zephaniah can't figure how such beauty could be overlooked or forgotten: her hair of the night sky, lips colored by roses and eyes of the deepest forest. She even makes the fur blanket draped over her lap look elegant.

I love you Zeph. Zephaniah slowly blinks, squeezing his eyes tight for a moment, as if dozing off. Why? Silly, cause you can always find me. The prince feels a sporadic jolt like a shiver shoot along his spine. Even when I hide in the really hard spots. The prince shakes his head; the memory or remembrance of a dream or whatever it was, had been unexpected.

The man reaches the carriage and gently dumps his mistress into the seat across from Zephaniah. She situates herself with a ladylike, but childish pout.

“Uh...” The prince blushes. Remember proper etiquette. “I'm Zephaniah, and you are?”

“You may call me Lady Victoria.” All signs of a childish, or anything less than superior, expression leaves her face.

“Well, Lady Victoria… um... if you don't mind me asking, what brings you out on such a stormy day?” The prince's lower lip slips slightly into his mouth.

“I guess it couldn't hurt anything.” She pauses as Timothy climbs back into the carriage and the coach continues on its journey. “My father sent me to visit a friend of his. I made the mistake of not waiting out the storm at an inn. Next thing I knew, our wheel had broken due to the storm hazarded road.”

“Aren't you worried about bandits?” Timothy asks, commenting on her seeming disregard of one of the upper class' largest problems.

Her sweet smile switches to a smirk for the shortest of moments before she responds. “Not in these woods; I have a long term promise of protection from the Robin while within the shadows of these trees. I even have this as proof.” At this, she lifts up her arm with a handbag which on closer inspection proves to be rimmed with sleek black feathers.

“Hmm..... but should we be worried about ban-” Timothy's forced attempt at a joking question is drowned out by Zephaniah’s own question.

“How will that help you?” The prince realizes too late that his interest has caused him to forget his manners and cut off Timothy.

Their guest flicks a stray strand of hair out of her face with a quick brush of her hand before answering. “I have but to show this pouch to any brigand who stops me and they will know that robbing me will bring retribution. Also I keep a few coins in it for the Robin's men if they stop me.”

“Is there really any difference? Either way they take your money.” Zephaniah leans forward with curiosity, comfortably engaged in the conversation now.

That stray strand of hair has fallen back into her face, so the lady uses her pointer and middle finger to push the hair behind her ear. “Not so, I freely give my money, and only to the Robin. Plus I decide what their protection is worth. The rumored skill of their group counts me glad to be under their guard and is well worth however I choose to give.”

Soon after, the conversation turns to more of a “polite” discussion. With the tapping of the rain, Zephaniah starts to partially fall asleep. Suddenly within the rain's melody he hears a thunk and the coach jolts to a stop. A quick peek outside shows the guards quickly becoming a barricade between the carriage and a ring of rough looking men.

“We're here to collect the toll demanded by the Robin,” calls a large and particularly grotesque one, “so just hand over your valuables and we won't have to hurt anyone!”

Lady Victoria suddenly gets a slightly confused look in her eyes. “Odd, from what I know, the ways of these men are nothing like the methods of the Robin's men. I know, my father told me of a test that may help us find the truth. Ask them where their leader is. Make sure not to say the Robin, but just say their leader.”

Timothy's call to the men, repeating the question, is answered by “He's not working with us today 'cause he's busy. You think we need him to hold our hand or somethin’?”

Zephaniah faintly notices an almost evil smirk cross Victoria's face upon hearing those words. Taking charge, she calls out in a voice only those who are used to being in charge have. “If you say so. Well then, send the youngest of your numbers to come get your toll, as I will not have such brutes near me.”

A youth looking to be around 13 struts up to the carriage, obviously thinking of what a story this would be to brag to his friends about later. Poor kid doesn't notice the evil smile that had been getting more obvious with each step he had taken, until he reaches the coach and a mocking voice to match it hisses at him. “Do you know what this is, Fake? Tell those others too; if you steal from us, nowhere will be safe for you in this forest.”

The other passengers can't tell if it's the venom of her words, the words themselves, the purse she flaunts at him, or a combination of all three, but the boy becomes a fearful ash gray. He takes three steps back before fearfully staggering through the two lines of surprised men. As if not noticing anything of what she just did, Lady Victoria cheerfully turns to Timothy. “See? Just like that, not a single thing taken. And such protection never costs more than whatever I’m willing to give. My father would sometimes even give food or drink as payment.”

“What I want to know,” cut in Zephaniah, “is how you knew that they weren't the Robin's men.”

“Two things: one, it is said that the Robin's men never act without the Robin being nearby; two, those under the Robin are said, as a sign of respect, to never call their leader anything other than 'the Robin'. And even if they have passed that test, a fake would have to be naive to take something when I showed that I only give to the Robin.”

“On that second point, I have sometimes wondered if the Robin couldn't be female and that is why her men never refer to her as either male or female.”

“Really, sir? What gives you the idea that such a famously strong person could be a girl?”

“Well, with all the rumors and myths going around, such a truly mysterious person could just as easily be a woman. And hiding her appearance would work all the more in her favor because no one would suspect a female of being a bandit, let alone a bandit leader.” Zephaniah suddenly becomes more self-conscience. “I don't know why I’m telling you all this, probably because I thought you might be able to shed some light on the subject....?” He looks hopefully at Victoria.

“I'm sorry to let you down, but while I’ve met the Robin’s men, I’ve never had the chance to meet the Robin. My father has, but he's never talked to me about it.”

A little disappointed, Zephaniah leans back, this time falling into a light sleep until the carriage stops near the edge of the woods. “What's going on?” he asks groggily.

“I'm leaving my payment as thanks for protection on the side of the road before we leave the forest” Victoria says as she steps out of the carriage.

“Wait, before you do....” Zephaniah turns to Timothy, “Timothy, don't you agree that amusement earlier was worth at least a few coins? Since the Robin made it possible for us to see such a show, why don't we add a few of our own coins to the lady's payment?” While Timothy begrudgingly gives Victoria some coins, Zephaniah notices that one of his personal guards is searching around frantically. “Rupert, what in the world are you looking for?”

“Well, sire, you see, last week was my birthday, sire. And you see, sire, my wife and daughter, they got me this real pretty armlet. It was brass with this tiny, gold bead and a few little red stones. It's not worth much, sire, but my wife and kid gave it to me so it's special. And I never took it off for anything, sire, I promise, but now I can't find it anywhere, sire.”

“Perhaps you forgot to put it on this morning,” Victoria chimes in, “I’m sure it will turn up when you least expect it.” With that she walks to a tree and ties her bag to it. As she turns back around, Zephaniah notices her mouth quietly moving but he can’t tell what she is saying, perhaps a prayer or something like that? Thinking it rude to inquire, when she returns to the carriage he decides to silence his curiosity.

Not long after leaving the wood, Victoria directs them to a lit cottage as her intended lodgings for the night. After having Timothy ensure she is safely received, the prince’s group travel a little ways to their own accommodations, a decent looking inn by the name of “The Raven’s Feather”.

The next morning they discover one of the Robin’s arrows lodged in the carriage with Rupert’s armlet tied to it.