Page 15 of The Wicked Prince

John had never had a criminal in his room before. He was frankly shocked to find himself speaking. “You’re supposed to be in the forest.”

The figure moved in a blur, and an arrow was pointed at John. He lifted his hands immediately. Robin Hood’s voice was strangely garbled. “Scream and I’ll shoot.”

If the criminal who knowingly and unknowingly held John’s fate in his hands was in front of him, he was going to take advantage of it.

“Was it a decoy in the competition?” The city had been shut down because of the chaos. And the time it would take for the outlaw to run into the forest to get away and then double back and sneak into a closed off city was improbable. “Or a decoy running into the forest with the others?”

“I want my prize. The arrow, Highness.”

A decoy that ran into the forest then. It made sense for someone so well known for his skill in archery to actually be in the competition.

“It’s somewhere on the floor.” John stayed completely still, glancing toward the window. “Where have you been hiding? The roof? You didn’t come through the door.”

Robin Hood started to lower the bow, saying, “You saw me shoot. You know if you scream, I’ll kill you before the guards can even open the door.”

There was something about Robin’s voice… like it was trying too hard to be low and rough. John watched intently as Robin kept his bow and arrow pointed in John’s direction but directed his gaze toward the floor. It was too dark to see even a gold arrow easily.

What happened if the criminal didn’t find the arrow?

Well, if John was going to get shot either way…

Robin had backed away, looking at a dark corner, sweeping his foot—a very petite foot—off balance. John went for the door.

He threw himself to the floor, narrowly avoiding the arrow that flew through the air. Well, he thought he did. When he tried to dart away, he was jerked back, pinned in place by an arrow in his shirt, in the narrow space between his skin and the end of the fabric.

“I should break your leg for that. I told you not to move.”

“You told me not to scream.”

“Not moving was implied.”

“You’re going to kill me over an implication?”

“You’re Prince John. There are plenty of reasons to kill you.”

The more he heard… the more Robin Hood sounded like he hadn’t gone through puberty at all. Or… he wasn’t aheat all. If Robin could disguise himself as an old man, what else could Robin be disguised as?

Robin scoffed, drawing back again, and John was ready to scream anyway.

That was when both of their eyes landed on the gold arrow right by John’s foot. They both went for it. Robin dove for it. John twisted his legs and got his foot on top of the shaft. Robin grabbed his leg and twisted his ankle causing him to yelp, and he kicked at Robin’s face, landing a hit square on the archer’s jaw.

Technically, it was more of a flail than a kick.

And Robin still got the arrow.

But John got Robin’s face.

Her face.

And her brilliant blue eyes. They were the exact same as the hunched-over archer. Beautiful but tired.

She had the golden arrow in her hand, and then she was gone.

Robin Hood was a young woman.

And John? John had a much better idea than an archery competition. Robin could have the golden arrow.

John was going to have Robin.

---