Page 6 of The Wicked Prince

“I certainly can’t like this,” Robin said. “Is this how you treat all the women you propose to? Because then it’s no mystery why you’re not married.”

Prince John perked right up at the word ‘married.’ He said in a sing-song tone,“I’ve been in your head.”

Spoiled, childish brat. Those rumors were true at least.

“I don’t care what I have to do in order to manage it. I will take your other hand clean off with my teeth!”

“And here I was hoping the chair would make you more civilized.”

“I feel very civilized being chained to it.” Robin rattled them again, the metal digging into her skin.

“Youbitme.”

“You deserved it.”

Prince John laughed. “You are fearless.”

The admiration in his voice had to be a façade.

“Somehow that’s not really flattering coming from a man cowering on the other side of the room.”

Prince John pushed himself up off the bench seat and started moving toward an ornate covered cart. Robin hadn’t noticed that either; she’d been too focused on John.

He had a point. He was in her head.

He’d been in her head for years, the thing that got her up every day. He was the specter that governed her every step. His name had been a curse in her mouth since the moment they met. But her distant enemy on a throne wasn’t the same as the one that had been haunting her over the last week.

“If I let you have one hand, will you play nice?” Prince John paused by the cart, eyeing her.

Prince John was a lot of things, but he clearly wasn’t an idiot. The words he chose served specifically to remind Robin just who held all the power. John might be a coward, but he was a powerful one. The most dangerous kind.

“Depends on the game.”

But Robin wasn’t known for backing down in the face of danger.

John rolled his eyes and lifted the lid of the tray. “The game is lunch, you savage.”

He did have her brought during the usual time she and the men were fed. She had been starting to feel pangs of hunger before the guards had even arrived. Her portions might have been better than her men’s, but that hadn’t meant they’d been completely filling. And what was on the tray was of an even better quality and decadence than anything Robin had eaten in a long time. Her mouth started watering as she smelled the tender, smoked meat and the sweet berry cakes.

Robin looked back at John, who was watching her intently. She didn’t like that stare, but she was hungry. Was this a test? If he thought she was falling for it, maybe he’d lower his guard and let something slip. Or he’d leave her a knife she could throw into his neck.

She spoke in a dead, dry voice, “I promise the only biting I do will be to my food.”

“Now that is much better. I knew you had it in you,” John said as he pushed the tray between her and the desk she was sitting in front of. Once he had moved it, John moved to her right side, slowly, eyeing her warily for any sudden movements. Robin stayed still and John unlocked her right wrist, moving back quickly as soon as it was free.

Robin simply flexed her wrist and rolled it.

John picked up his plate off the tray and set it on the desk before taking his own seat behind it. Not reallyhisseat at all. This was King Richard’s study.

For a minute they ate in silence. Unfortunately, she had not been left a knife. While she could try hurling the fork at him, she decided not to. She’d never be able to get herself out of the chair and rescue her Merry Men before John’s body was discovered. So she ate. And the food was amazing.

Robin was used to unseasoned meat, whatever her band had poached, or if they were lucky, the villagers they helped shared bread, fruit, and vegetables with them. She’d made her peace with it as soon as she’d joined her men and forgot there was anything better out there until now. This was heavenly. And a reminder of the whole reason Robin had started her career as an outlaw. Because of the disgusting extravagance happening in Prince John’s castle while the villagers watched more and more of their harvest disappear and worried if they would make it through winter.

Robin’s stomach turned and she couldn’t eat a single bite more.

“It’s more wasteful if you don’t finish.”

Robin’s gaze snapped up to John. “What?”

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