Everything I Do: a Robin Hood romance (Rosa Fitzwalter Book 1) by M.C. Frank

soft brown earth beneath her feet. She tried to stay still and repeat the words in her head, like a chant. Please help them, God Almighty, please help me help them . That seemed to calm her enough that she could think coherently.
    Then, suddenly, a plan began to take form in her mind.
    She got up and strode resolutely to an old, intricately-woven Spanish chest in the corner. Bending down, she swept carefully away the heavy woolen cloth that covered its weather-beaten surface and then she lifted the lid. Inside, neatly folded and stacked, lay her dresses, a couple of veils and a few winter cloaks. She’d never cared for gowns and finery, but her father expected her to look regal the few times he had allowed her inside the dining hall, and so she had reluctantly accumulated some fine garments over the last few years.
    Now she lifted them out, every one of them, hurriedly, and put them aside, smiling when she came across her boy’s clothes, hidden among the pile of slippery silks. She then reached down to pick up a small object that was lodged at the rough bottom, relieved when her fingers touched its cool surface, for she hadn’t been entirely sure she’d find it.
    She swiftly lifted the tiny glass bottle to examine its contents against the light, and proceeded to conceal it deftly among her skirts. Then, putting everything back meticulously, she left her room tidy and clean as it was before and she left her quarters, the hall around her ringing with the determination of her steps.
     
     
    Descending to the kitchens, Rosa quickly grabbed a chunk of bread without sitting down to eat breakfast properly. She meandered around the stalls of skinned chickens and dried-out herbs distractedly until her eye caught the barrels, brimming with ale, standing in a cluster close to the doors and ready to be moved outside. The Sheriff liked to be thought of as generous, at least for as long as the festivities lasted, so he provided about a dozen barrels of free ale for the villagers’ benefit every time there was a festival in Nottinghamshire. The villagers drank every drop of it with glee, forgetting for the moment that he’d make them pay him back tenfold in taxes for every cup they drank.
    Rosa quickly singled one out and towed it aside from the rest using all her strength. When she was sure she wouldn’t confuse which one it was, she opened its  wooden cover slightly and poured inside the entire contents of the little glass bottle. She closed it again, all in one quick movement, unobserved by the busy kitchen-maids.
    Then she went to the stables to find Jo. He looked at her suspiciously as soon as he heard what she wanted.
    “Make sure that you don’t pick the wrong one. I have singled it out of the rest, it’s pretty obvious which one I’ve put aside for you. Oh, and if anyone asks any questions, you are to say that it was on my orders,” she added quickly.
    “Are you sure you want to do this, milady?” he asked again. “I am not only worried for my safety, but for yours too.”
    “I’m sure. Thank you, Jo, I will not forget it,” she said simply, not bothering to assure him of her own safety. For one thing she wasn’t assured of it at all, but the truth was she wasn’t even concerned about it.
    “I’ll take it there, my lady, as soon as I can find another to help me carry it.” For a minute he seemed to want to add something more, but he pressed his lips together and watched her walk briskly away. He shook his head after her and went away, calling to a skinny lad he could see in the distance.
    Rosa walked around the gardens to the back side of the castle, trying to school her features into calmness.
    The ugly stench of sickness and misery assailed her as soon as she walked in through the heavy gates of the prison. The guards knew her, of course, and drew their weapons aside to let her pass, and she walked along confidently, no trace of the empathy and pain she felt evident on her face as she witnessed the squalor