If the great hall of Nottingham Castle had been as full of people, servants and nobles alike as it usually was, Allan would have no doubt kept his mouth shut. But Marian knew him better than anyone who didn’t live in Sherwood forest, and he saw little need to hold his tongue in front of her. She might consider it a lying, traitorous tongue, but at least he knew she’d let him keep it should he speak his mind before her. And he did - in an exasperated cry as he flung himself down into a wooden chair, one hand pressing against his forehead and the other flailing widely as he made his point.