Page 58 of The Wicked Prince

Her men had finally found a way in and had gotten to her before the Sheriff and the guards could stop them. It had only been a matter of time. He’d always known he’d lose her.

He’d just…

He’d started to hope he wouldn’t. That over time, she might not slip out a window and back into the woods from whence she came, leaving him standing there like a fool because he thought he could convince the righteous outlaw to love the cowardly tyrant.

The portrait of her and her parents still hung on the wall.

She’d told him. He couldn’t even blame her. She’d told him Lady Roberta of Locksley was dead and all that was left was the outlaw, Robin Hood. She’d told him she’d started running and had never stopped. He shouldn’t have hoped that maybe she would stop running just because of him.

And why shouldn’t she run?

She knew him. He was no great fighter. He was the biggest coward to ever walk the continent. He’d exposed every truth and vulnerability about himself to her with wide eyes, hoping that if he bore his rotten soul out before her maybe she would find something in it worth staying for.

But of course there wasn’t.

John walked up to the dresser. He should have thrown himself at her feet in his study and grabbed her skirts and begged her not to run. His pride wasn’t worth this.

The sun was low in the sky, its last rays slipping into the room and shining off the small gold arrow and the thin chain. John brushed his fingers over the gold, shivering at how cold it was.

He let out a scoff. She couldn’t even leave a note. She’d just thrown it all to the wind and leapt out the window the second she could.

She’d named herself Robin. Of course she acted like a caged bird.

And she was. He couldn’t pretend he hadn’t rip her out of the sky and stuck her in the most magnificent cage in Astren, hoping she’d sing for him.

John moved to the window and loosened the rope, throwing it down to the training grounds below. He then moved to shut the window.

The light caught the little gold arrow again.

John froze. She’d taken the time to change her clothes and abandon the necklace.

But she hadn’t left her ring.

She’dnevertaken her ring off.

She’d taken her ring with her.

Why?

Why wouldn’t she leave it behind as well if she was going to leave him?

He’d only discovered Robin was gone because he’d come to her room to grovel at her feet and try to explain himself. He’d been hoping the words would come to him when he got there. Or he’d just be the same needy, pathetic mess he’d been earlier that day, but maybe it would work out better the second time around as he begged her not to run from him.

Some kind of apology. Some kind of attempt at honesty, telling her the truth of his feelings and intentions. Some kind of desperate plea for her not to leave him.

He should have moved faster. Now it was too late.

Because even if he could overcome his cowardice and find the words to convince her to stay, he wouldn’t even know where to begin looking.

Unless…

Oh no. But where else would they go?

Where else would her men take her but the one place everyone knew John would never go?

But John wasn’t a fighter. Not even for what mattered to him. And Robin had mattered most.

He was a coward. And a villain. And he didn’t deserve Robin.

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