They'll call me a thief, an outlaw, a rebel. All of it is true. But what they always miss is the best part of the story: the moment I met her, Lady Elara. Before she came into my life, I was fighting for a cause, certainly—taking from the wealthy and giving to the poor. But it was just a fight. Elara didn't simply join my cause; she ignited it into a crusade.
Our greatest adversary was the Sheriff of Lincoln, a tyrant whose cruelly high taxes made life unbearable for everyone. I was just a boy when his men came for my family. My father, a proud and honest farmer, couldn't pay the rent after a harsh season of failed crops. His men hammered on our door, then dragged us into the street like animals. I was frozen with fear, but my father stood tall. "We have paid our dues every season," he declared. "A man's worth should not be judged by the coin in his purse, but by his labor and his honor." One of them sneered, "Honor doesn't pay the Sheriff's rent."
My mother pleaded and begged, but they cast us out and set our fields ablaze. I watched as everything my family had ever worked for was consumed by fire and turned to ash. I swore an oath that night that I would never let anyone feel so powerless again. In my world, the wealthy were cocooned in their own luxury, blind to the suffering of the poor. I never felt a shred of guilt relieving them of their riches. The noblewomen were all the same, lost in a world of gossip and gowns, completely unaware of the struggles beyond their castle walls.
That was how things were, until I met Elara. Disguised as a beggar in the crowded marketplace, I kept my head low. The Sheriff’s men had plastered my wanted posters on every wall. Amidst the usual chaos, a cry of desperation pierced the air. A frail old man, caught stealing a loaf of bread, was pinned to the ground by one of the Sheriff's brutes, ready to be made a harsh public example.
Just as I moved to intervene, a clear, confident voice cut through the noise. "Stop that." The crowd parted, and she stepped into the circle. At first, she appeared to be just another noblewoman. "A public flogging for an old man stealing bread? Have you no mercy?" The guard scoffed, "Kindly go about your business, my lady." She replied, her voice unwavering, "I am Lady Elara of Beaumont, and I will not permit this." Lord Beaumont was a powerful man, the Sheriff's lead tax collector and a key reason the poor went hungry. But his daughter, aside from her beauty, possessed a fire and compassion I had never seen in a noble before. My heart hammered against my ribs like a drum.
The uncertain guard let the old man go. As Elara turned to leave, I saw her glance at one of my wanted posters. I heard the guard warn her, "Be careful, my lady. He is one of the most dangerous men in Lincoln. He claims to steal from the rich, but it's the poor who pay the price. More guards now patrol the streets because of him, which means higher taxes and harsher punishments. He believes he's a hero, but he only makes things worse." I watched her depart, certain I would never see her again. It was not my place to think of her, as I was already betrothed to a woman I did not love—a match arranged to secure peace between families, a union in which neither of our hearts had a say.
Still, I couldn't resist telling my loyal Forest Companions about my encounter with the captivating Lady Elara. One scoffed, "You're smitten with a Beaumont? She may have a lovely face, but her heart and loyalty will always belong to her family's fortune." Brother Michael added wisely, "Temptation arrives in many disguises, my friend. She will show you a glimpse of heaven before leading you directly to your doom. Trust me, Rowan, I have seen it before. Her world and ours are separated by an ocean."
Despite their warnings, I couldn't banish her from my thoughts. As fate would have it, I would see her again that very night, and everything would change. It was a perfect night for a heist. The Sheriff's grand feast would keep the nobility occupied, providing them the perfect stage to display their wealth. I slipped through the rear of a grand estate, into the kitchens, and silently gathered what I could. But upstairs, as my hand closed around an ornate necklace, I felt another presence in the room.
"You're Rowan of Loxley, aren't you? The dangerous criminal." I turned slowly, knowing instantly who it was. There she stood, Lady Elara, her bow drawn, an arrow aimed directly at my heart. The same fire I'd seen in the marketplace burned in her eyes. I raised my hands. "I mean you no harm, and I am no criminal. I simply take back what was stolen from us." She replied, "I knew you would come. I was waiting for you, or one of your men. The banquet was the perfect distraction." I smirked. "Clever. I hope the reward is worth the trouble."
"Do you truly believe that stealing trinkets and silverware is advancing your cause?" she challenged. "It may offer temporary relief, but you need a much better, long-term strategy if you ever hope to win." I retorted, "I don't recall asking for your counsel, my lady. Return to your silks and oysters where you belong. This is not your fight." She stepped closer. "It's only a matter of time before the Sheriff captures you. What will the poor do then? Have you ever considered that?" I couldn't believe her audacity. But deep down, I knew she was right. "Well, it seems I've been caught. So, what is your grand idea?"
"I don't want to turn you in, Rowan. I have a plan," she said, her voice low. "You are stealing from the wrong places. The true wealth isn't in these mansions. It's in the vault beneath the castle—the very taxes collected from the poor." I stared at her. "Now I see. You're completely mad. How am I supposed to breach a steel vault?" She smiled faintly. "It's quite simple, Rowan. I will get you the key."
I was stunned. Her plan was audacious, brilliant even, but I hesitated. "And why should I trust you?" Her expression hardened. "Because this is my fight, too. I have watched my family grow rich while others starve. I have seen food that could feed a village wasted on hounds. I have seen the Sheriff's men drag families from their homes and beat them for a few missing coins. I have had enough." I warned her, "But if you are caught, you will become an outlaw. Your betrayal will never be forgiven." She met my gaze without flinching. "I am not seeking forgiveness. I am seeking change."
Her words struck me like an arrow to the heart. I saw my own past flash before my eyes—the night my family was cast out, our fields burning, our home reduced to nothing. Elara was no mere noblewoman playing at rebellion; she meant every word. "Then so be it." At last, she lowered her bow. For the first time, we shared a smile. I was captivated by her, and I knew it was not just her plan I was falling for. It was her. Together, we could spark a change far greater than anything I could ever accomplish alone.
We arranged to meet the following night. I ran straight back to the Forest Companions, eager to detail the plan, but they were far less trusting. "She's not in this for the people, Rowan," one argued. "This is just her way of rebelling against her father." Brother Michael added, "Her heart burns with anger, not a sense of justice. That kind of fire can consume us all if we are not careful." Another companion conceded, "It's a clever plan, I'll grant her that. But do not place your trust so easily. When it comes down to saving her own skin or yours, she'll leave you for the wolves."
It took some time to persuade them, and even then, I knew they were placing their faith in me, not in Elara. My heart believed in her, yet my mind could not quiet the nagging doubts. What if this was all an elaborate trap? I pushed the thoughts aside to focus on the mission. Elara's plan was to take the vault keys from her father and leave them for us in the Sheriff's castle library. We would sneak in at dusk, seize the treasure, and vanish. But before setting out, I sought out my betrothed. It felt wrong to remain committed to her when I could not get Elara out of my mind. "I am sorry," I told her, "but our wedding cannot proceed. I will ensure your family is well provided for. You will want for nothing, I swear it." She was, however, outraged. This was not about love; it was about pride and the humiliation of being cast aside. I thought I was doing the honorable thing, but I had no idea what her fury would unleash.
Later, my companions and I reached the estate, creeping through the gardens toward the library. My heart pounded, not just from the risk, but because I was staking everything on Elara's word. But when we reached the designated spot, my heart sank. The keys were not there. Had something gone wrong? Suddenly, we heard footsteps and voices approaching. We ducked behind a heavy curtain as the door swung open. It was Elara and her father. "I must say, Elara, this is a pleasant surprise," he said. "You've never shown an interest in my work before." She replied smoothly, "I felt it was time to understand our holdings, Father. To see things through your eyes." Was this part of her plan? Was she buying time?
But then, the unmistakable clang of armor echoed down the hall. The door burst open, and guards flooded the room. "Begin the search! We have word that Rowan of Loxley is inside the castle!" My world tilted. I desperately wanted to believe Elara hadn't betrayed us, but it wasn't long before they tore the curtain aside and discovered us. I was dragged out to stand before Elara and her father. As the guards bound my wrists, my eyes found hers. I pleaded silently, 'Say something. Do something.' But she just stood there, her face a mask of indifference.
Her father beamed. "Elara, you are witnessing history! The most notorious outlaw in Lincoln, finally captured. You'll never need to worry about this scum again once you take my place. Isn't it magnificent?" I held my breath, waiting for her to act. But she simply looked away. "Yes, Father. Justice must be served to criminals." Then she added, "May I have your coat, please? I'm cold." Her words were a dagger to the chest. As they dragged me away, the sting of betrayal burned hotter than any physical wound I had ever known.
They threw me and my men into a dank cell. "Well, I warned you," one of my men muttered. "Nobles only look out for themselves." Another clapped my shoulder. "We'll likely hang for this, but we'll be together until the end, brother." Brother Michael began to pray softly, "We are all tested by betrayal, but it is through forgiveness that we find salvation. Pray for strength... and for Elara. Our mission will live on, no matter our fate. The people will rise one day." I felt like a broken man in that cold, dark cell.
When I heard footsteps approaching, I braced for the next cruel twist. But there, standing before us, was Elara. Before I could utter a word, she tossed a bundle of guard uniforms at us and began to unlock the cell. "Put these on. Now." We quickly dressed as the Forest Companions fled, melting away into the freedom of the night. My heart pounded as I followed her down a hidden corridor.
"I thought you gave us up," I whispered. "No," she replied urgently. "You were followed to the castle. I saw them, but it was too late to warn you. Then I realized... you getting caught was the only way. It created the perfect distraction. They would celebrate your capture and leave the vault completely unguarded." "Elara, we have to leave now," I insisted. "You can be free of all this." She stopped and turned to me. "We came here to take back what belongs to the people, and I have the keys." She held up the keys she'd lifted from her father's coat—the very one she'd asked for to keep warm. "This is our chance, Rowan. We cannot let them win."
Her conviction pierced through my doubt, and I followed her deeper into the belly of the castle. We reached the underground chamber. It was unguarded, just as she had predicted. She unlocked the heavy door, and we approached the vault. I turned the handle, but it was slick with condensation and wouldn't budge. As I struggled, Elara stepped forward and placed her hands over mine. "Your hands are trembling," she murmured. "Here, let me help." Our eyes met for a fleeting moment as we pushed down on the handle together. The door clicked open. We worked quickly, filling sacks with coins and gold, our hearts racing with every second.
Just as we were about to escape, we heard laughter echoing down the hall. It was none other than Lord Beaumont and the Sheriff of Lincoln. "Let us take what we can before the celebrations conclude," the Sheriff chuckled. "The king won't miss what he doesn't know is missing. Only you and I are aware of the true amount stored here." We hastily shoved the sacks behind a stone pillar, but there was nowhere to run. They entered the chamber, and Lord Beaumont quickly hid a sack of his own behind his back. "Guards? What are you doing in here? Wait... the vault. It's open!" Lord Beaumont drew his sword. "Show yourself!"
I was calculating how to take them both on when Elara calmly stepped forward. I had no idea what she was planning. She lifted her visor, and the color drained from her father's face. "Elara? What in God's name is this madness? What are you doing here?" She feigned surprise. "It's obvious, is it not? How dare you steal from the King? Isn't that what you were both about to do?" She turned to me. "But Father, you are mistaken. I was stopping the robbery." My heart plummeted. Would she truly betray me again? When she forced me to my knees and shackled my hands, I knew my fate was sealed.
"Is that so?" the Sheriff said with suspicion. "Then why the armor? It looks like a disguise to me." Elara acted offended. "Father, see how he doubts my loyalty. I knew the guards would be distracted by the celebration, so I came in armor to do my duty. I found this thief here, also in armor, which he stole from a guard he overpowered. You should be grateful I caught him, for it is none other than Rowan of Loxley!" Elara pulled off my helmet, revealing my face. The Sheriff and Lord Beaumont looked stunned, then broke into triumphant laughter.
"Elara, I always knew you had the spirit of a true Beaumont! Well done, my girl!" her father exclaimed. "You see, Rowan of Loxley, no matter how clever you are, you can never outsmart true loyalty." I tried desperately to catch her eye, but she wouldn't look at me. "Guards! Guards!" her father yelled. Suddenly, Elara kicked my back, sending me sprawling. "No need for them, Father. Look how pathetic he is, completely helpless in these cuffs. Why don't you both check the vault first, to reassure yourselves that everything is safe? I hope I have made you proud."
As the Sheriff and Lord Beaumont walked toward the vault, she quietly unlocked my cuffs. The second they were inside, we threw our combined weight against the heavy door, slamming it shut. As we heard their muffled shouts from within, Elara calmly locked the vault and we walked out with the sacks of riches and broad smiles. "That was close," I breathed. "You really had me convinced you had turned on me."
She laughed. "It was never meant to fail. Not for me." "What do you mean?" I asked. "The vault was emptied days ago. What we loaded into these sacks? Painted rocks. Tonight was never about the gold. It was a final farewell to my father and my soon-to-be fiancé... the Sheriff." My jaw dropped. "So this was a trap." She nodded. "I knew the Sheriff couldn't resist a quiet raid, and I hoped my father would follow. He never trusts anyone with money. Lucky me. Caught red-handed in an empty vault with no one to blame but each other. The royal court will handle the rest." I looked at her with new eyes. "You played them." She gave a fierce smile. "I played everyone. But I chose you." She wasn't just escaping her world; she had torn it down, piece by piece. "Oh, and tell Brother Michael he was wrong," she added. "I didn't fall from grace. I burned the palace down first."