Page 46 of The Wicked Prince

“I’m not going to let any of the nobles have a reason to disparage you, not even for something as minuscule as your dancing skills.”

Robin’s grip tightened, his shirt wrinkling. He tightened his own on her waist and was rewarded with a hitch in her breath.

“Besides, as much as you might abhor the expense and the extravagance, there is a price to doing business with the nobles, and that involves dancing. Might as well get started now. Yours is not a temporary position.”

If he said that enough times, maybe he’d believe it too.

He pulled his hand away from her waist just long enough to catch her chin beneath his forefinger and tilt it up to his face and not his chest. “Besides, you’re proving to be a quick study.”

“Yes, we did say until death, didn’t we?” Robin let out a slow breath. “But that doesn’t mean as much when you’ve died once already.”

Is that what she thought?

“You didn’t die in that fire.”

“Roberta of Locksley died with her parents in that fire. Just because you made me sign that name doesn’t change that.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why didn’t you go back? Marian’s parents would have become your guardians until you were old enough to inherit the estates. Why did you choose those vagabonds over your birthright? Over your family?”

Another song started, but Robin didn’t seem to notice or care that she was giving him more than just the one dance.

Robin looked up at him with the eyes that had been haunting him since the moment he first saw them. “Because Icouldn’tgo back. I couldn’t be her anymore. Not without my parents. The sun had set and I’d lost track of time. I was coming back from practicing my archery, and I saw that fire… I just ran, and I’ve never stopped running since. I can’t. I ran until I collapsed, and that’s where Little Jon found me. When he asked me what my name was, I started to say it, but I couldn’t. I was choking on smoke or bile or something, and I saw a robin, so I pointed at it as I choked on the first syllable. When he asked me about my parents, I told him they were dead. I knew there was no way they could have survived that fire. Sometimes… I wonder… I heard later it was an unattended candle, but no one knew where. I wonder some days… was it my fault? If I’d come back on time, would it have changed things enough to have saved them? Am I responsible?”

John didn’t even care that they’d stopped moving and were standing in the middle of the floor. He tightened his grip on her, trying to find the words and utterly failing.

“And I just… I couldn’t do it.” Robin’s voice was so soft John had to strain to hear it over the music, pulling her closer.

He whispered, “Do what?”

“Live. If Roberta had been back on time, she would be dead. So I let her be dead. In order to survive, I had to become someone else. Someone who couldn’t be caught, not by anything, especially not by my past. And my men, they took me in, as I was, no questions asked. They didn’t expect anything of me other than to just survive. And I could forget. There was nothing to remind me of my parents, of Locksley, of Roberta at all. Marian only found out I survived because she spotted me when Guy caught me before I’d really figured out what I was doing as Robin Hood. Fortunately for me, Guy’s security measures were lacking, Marian was clever, and my men loyal to a fault. I took more care after that and never got caught unless I wanted to be.”

“Never?”

If that was true—

“Almost.”

He pretended like that one word didn’t pierce his chest harder than any arrow from her bow could.

“And still you stayed an outlaw.”

Robin moved even closer, her grip relaxing and her fingers splaying out over his shirt. She whispered, “Guess you’re not the biggest coward in Astren after all.”

Chapter18

John paced the length of his room in just his undershirt and trousers, having discarded everything else as it felt so tight he couldn’t breathe, waiting.

As the ball had been winding down, Robin had said there was one thing she wanted to take care of, but she’d be right up. He’d made her promise, and he imagined she likely assumed it was because of his ritual of massaging her bad leg, given the wry grin and roll of her eyes. While he would, absolutely, there was another reason.

He pulled at his collar—that was nowhere near his neck, the ties loose and open leaving the V-shape wide open—and he rolled his sleeves up. Why was it so hot? It was still winter.

He was in the middle of going for the window to throw it open when the door between his and Robin’s rooms flew open. He spun around as Robin said, “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to have all the leftover food distributed to the poorest section of the city tomorrow?”

John heard her question but he was too busy taking her in.

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