Page 45 of The Wicked Prince

“I did real, substantial good, thank you very much! I didn’t have to have a castle or fine things to be happy. My life and my home were out there with my men.”

Could she ever be happy with him?

“Look at everything you’ve done these last few months! Just because you didn’t realize you were allowed to write if you chose doesn’t mean we haven’t been hearing about everything you’ve done.” Marian shook her head. “You have done more good for Astren here these last few months than you did those years you were attacking tax collectors. I’ve been following every order you’ve put your name on. It may not be immediate and obvious like dumping coins back into people’s hands, but you’re making real change that’s going to help Astren for years to come.”

“Marian, you need to know that’s not—”

John cleared his throat before Robin could reveal the fact that she was not the sole architect of everything good.

She spun around, her skirts whirling and she nearly pitched over—he assumed because of the unfamiliar new shoes she was in. He quickly stepped forward and caught her arms, steadying her as he said, “Eager to make your way to the dance floor?”

“Don’t think I don’t know that you probably had these shoes designed this way just to drive me insane.”

“I wouldn’t have to; you’re already insane.”

Robin’s lips were twitching as she said, “You’re not funny.”

John grinned. “Dance with me.”

“I knew it.” Robin breathed out, her hand tapping on his chest. “You almost had me fooled, but I was right all along. You’re absolutely insane.”

“For wanting to dance with my wife?”

“For thinking I’m even capable of it.”

“I’ve had the immense pleasure of watching you shoot and train and you move with an elegance this court wishes they could have even a fraction of.”

“Hitting you repeatedly with a quarterstaff because you don’t know how to keep a guard up is not the same thing as knowing all the little steps to a courtly dance.”

Marian spoke up, “Rob is just trying to weasel her way out of it. She knows most of these dances already from childhood.”

Robin’s head snapped back toward Marian. “I forgot them.”

“It’s like riding a horse; you never really forget.” Marian nodded toward John. “Besides, don’t you think all these other stuffed shirts are going to absolutely hate it if you stroll onto the dance floor with your history and prove yourself the better dancer?”

Bless Marian.

Robin bit her lip and glanced at the nobles, most of whom were watching them again. Then she looked down to where her forearms were still in John’s grip. But then she pulled her arms out of his and straightened up, saying, “It’s cold. My leg hurts too much.”

“Does it? Because I recall you saying last night that you thought the air was starting to warm a little and it didn’t hurt so badly.”

“I lied because I wanted to get through the report we were working on.”

John stepped closer, bending his head down and lowering his voice so not even Marian could hear them. “If your leg hurts so much, I’ll take care of it right now.”

Robin’s cheeks immediately flamed red.“John.”

“Indulge me. Please.”

Robin gaped up at him. He wasn’t entirely sure what it was about his needy entreat that took her aback, but before he could figure it out, her hand was in his. “One. You get one dance.”

John knew he would not be satisfied with just one. But his greed for Robin knew no bounds, so he would simply have to take whatever she would give him.

He didn’t waste a second, sweeping Robin off to the dance floor and pointedly ignoring the exasperated look Guy gave him.

John relished the feeling of her hand in his and the warmth of her waist beneath his other. Her hand rested on his shoulder, slightly lower so the bottom of her palm rested on the top of his chest—not the proper placement, but John wasn’t going to point it out. The music started, and John led them through the dance, leaning in and murmuring the upcoming steps into Robin’s ear as she stared determinedly at his neck, never looking at her feet or his face. When she stumbled or missed a step, he pulled her closer each time until very quickly her feet were practically on top of his and her front brushed his as they moved.

Robin muttered, “This is not the proper form. I know that much at least.”

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