Will could only see the Editor's red curls hanging over the back of her chair. He stood beside the door, his hands folded behind his back, waiting for her to speak first.

To his surprise, the Editor stood and turned to her, her dark eyes narrowed as she looked him up and down. She wore a traditional gown from Will's time, similar to what Maid Marian would wear; red, with billowy sleeves. She crossed her arms, looking down at Will. She was even taller than he was, he thought dazedly. "I was expecting something more from the one who rewrote my Story," she said in a deep, British-accented voice.

"Sorry to disappoint," Will replied, finding his voice. "I was expecting the writer of The Story to have a sense of the greater good. It seems neither of us is what the other expected."

The Editor smirked. "Always ready with an answer, aren't you, Scarlet. Just like your father."

The comment caught Will by surprise. The only father he had ever known was his uncle Robin Hood. He'd never met his father or his mother. "What do you know of my father?" he demanded, his voice shrilling.

The Editor's smirk widened. "A great deal, and even more of your mother. I do know that your father underwent Final Death not long after your birth. Your mother, however, is still alive...and regretting the moment she fell for your father."

Will wasn't stupid. He heard the bitterness in the Editor's voice, and the hard satisfaction when she delivered the news that Will's father was dead. It didn't take a genius to figure out who his mother was. "You," he said, his voice calm despite the whirlwind of emotions in his head.

"So you do have some brains in that head of yours," the Editor said. "Yes, me. Little did I know that my mistake in giving birth to you would come back to haunt me later on. But how was I to know that my ability to write The Story would pass on to my illiterate son?"

"You didn't want me," Will said hollowly. "So you wrote me into The Story as Will Scarlet. What's my real name?"

"How am I to know?" the Editor retorted. "I didn't even give you a name."

That hurt more than anything. For years Will had imagined meeting his parents, a joyous reunion where he would discover they'd been impoverished and hadn't been able to take proper care of him. Instead, he found out that his mother hadn't even wanted him and couldn't even be bothered to name him. "You could've written me into as someone who didn't die," Will said. "But you had to write me in so I would die every single time, didn't you?"

"You should be honored," the Editor retorted. "You were the first person I wrote in."

"Thrilled," Will said angrily. "But I certainly wasn't the last, was I?"

"So emotional," the Editor scolded. "Emotions will only get in your way. I want to tell you something. This Story, all of The Story...it is mine. I have control over everyone except for two. You, and Rachel Andric. Little did I know I was immune to The Story's magic, and imagine my surprise when I found it out...through you."

"Is there a point to all of this? You know, when you kill me?" Will said impatiently.

"If I had wanted to kill you, would I have healed the wound I inflicted on you when I abducted Gisborne?" the Editor asked. "No...you are the only member of The Story who has remained a part of it the whole time, even if it was at the expense of the Andrics' lives. I was rather surprised that Gisborne had the gall to kill them, to be honest."

"You sent the Andrics to save me," Will said. "It's your fault they're dead."

"And I ordered their son to remove all of your memories of the incident," the Editor went on. "After all, I knew the Andrics would probably cause problems later on. I didn't want you to align with their daughter or son later on, when they finally decided to rebel against me. But then you ended up owing your life not only to the elder Andrics, but their blonde brat as well. All my careful planning, and your mistake in falling into Gisborne's trap ruined it all."

"Again...is there a point to this conversation?" Will said.

"Face it, Will," the Editor said, "I've won. Even now, Rachel Andric is consuming a poisoned apple to save your life, and with Guy of Gisborne trapped in my prison, there will be no one to awaken her from her slumber. And with her out of the way, her friends will be desperate to free her from her endless sleep and will walk right into a trap here. And with them out of the way...I will be once more in control of my Story."

A poisoned apple...endless sleep...with them out of the way... The words seemed to ring in Will's ears, filling him with horror. His desperation to escape from the Editor's prison increased tenfold. He would get Guy out of the cell, and they would get him to Rachel. She would wake up. She had to. Without her, everything would be doomed. "You won't win," Will warned her. "As long as I draw breath, you will not triumph and abuse The Story any longer."

"Don't make me kill my own flesh and blood," the Editor said, though it didn't sound like she would mind doing so very much. "The Story will return to what it was. If you cooperate, I will even return your friend to you—what was his name?" She smiled slyly. "Alan-a-Dale."

"If you think you can turn my loyalty from Rachel by offering to reverse Alan's Final Death, then you are dead wrong," Will replied firmly. "He would hate me, and I would hate myself. Nothing is worth losing my honor and their friendships. Not even Alan's life."

The Editor rolled her eyes. "So gallant," she said. "You make me sick. Friendship and loyalty get you nowhere. Get out of here."

The door opened, and the Snow Queen came back in, taking Will's arm once more. She seemed mildly surprised that Will was still alive. "You won't win," Will said to the Editor. "I will get out of here."

"Put him by himself," the Editor ordered. "And if he attempts to escape, kill Guy of Gisborne."

"Ja, min dame," the Snow Queen answered, and Will was dragged from the room.

His audience with the Editor was over.