Every so often, there were days where the stars aligned and everything seemed to finally be going Prince John’s way. Enough that it made being king worth it.
Fine. Prince Regent. Close enough.
Regardless, today was one of those historic days. The day Prince John had caught Astren’s most elusive, most wanted outlaw, Robin Hood.
Well… maybe not that exact day, if Prince John was being technical. And if they were getting into those pesky details, Prince John wasn’t the one who physically apprehended her. Robin Hood had been apprehended a few days ago by the Sheriff of Ferren Forest. It had been John’s plan… he just hadn’t had a hand in executing it.
What was the point in being Prince Regent if he had to do things instead of make someone else do them?
Regardless, this was the day his outlaw was scheduled to arrive in Lathe. The day she would be brought before Prince John.
So that made today the important one. The one everyone would remember.
The second John had stepped out of his room that morning, he’d dismissed all the advisors and officials squabbling for his attention. Vultures. He’d taken an extra half hour to ensure everything was perfect. To make sure he was perfect. Of course they’d taken the opportunity to swarm him the second he had appeared even though there was no sense in even pretending to do any work that morning. He would be too distracted waiting for the arrival of his outlaw.
And her band of Merry Men, he supposed. The Sheriff had succeeded in catching all of them, thanks to John’s brilliant plan. It was so perfect a plan even an idiot couldn’t mess it up—proven by the fact that the Sheriff had caught her and hadn’t lost her in transit. Catching all of them at the same time had been the key. The many times one or two got away had always led to the rescue of the others. But this time there would be no escape or rescue. Her little band would be headed straight for the dungeons. Robin would be brought straight to him.
John sat on the king’s throne—it was his right as Prince Regent—and he waited. As the morning wore on, his patience didn’t falter. But he did drum his fingers on the arm of the chair, watching the way the gold rings caught the sunlight. Another hour passed. He should have brought something to occupy himself, but his usual hobby would have been too much hassle with all the rings on his fingers. His back started to hurt so he shifted, leaning back against the arm and swinging his legs over the other side in a display wholly inappropriate for royalty.
But who was going to stop him?
As long as Richard was gone, he was the highest authority in the kingdom. His brother was off in the desert fighting over who got more sand dunes behind their borders. No one in Astren held more power than John.
It was good to be king. Well, regent.
When a scrawny little page finally gave him word that the Sheriff and his prisoners had been spotted entering the city, John almost straightened back up into a proper position, but stopped himself. No. This would be better suited for his and Robin’s second meeting, and his victory.
The doors opened, and the sight had John grinning as brightly as he had the day he’d come up with his brilliant scheme.
The Sheriff—John couldn’t remember the man’s proper name, but he also didn’t care to. He wasn’t important enough for that. Regardless, the Sheriff was a weathered man at least two decades John’s senior whose incompetence was the only reason John knew who he was. But at least today his incompetence had proven no match for John’s brilliance. Or rather, the painstaking step-by-step instructions John had given him so that there was no room for the Sheriff to make a single decision on his own.
He was holding what looked like a leash made of chains connected to a set of manacles and shackles. Two of the Sheriff’s men hovered around the figure in chains, their hands on her arms, forcing her forward while the Sheriff pulled on the chain.
But the young woman would not move an inch without a fight.
The only reason she wasn’t being dragged on the ground was because of the guards half-carrying her. The chains rattled as she struggled, trying to kick and twist and break free in any way she could. Her head thrashed around, sending her dark blonde hair flying in a thousand different directions as she screamed—or tried to. The gag around her mouth muffled it, but considering how loud she was even then, John was grateful his ears were spared.
It was like they were transporting a wild animal.
John’s cheeks started to ache with how big his grin was.
The second her blue eyes landed on him, she redoubled her efforts. To no avail.
“Your Highness,” the Sheriff called out over Robin’s screaming. “We executed your brilliant plan perfectly. She was right where you said she would be, desperately trying to talk Lady Marian out of her wedding to Guy.”
Robin’s screaming grew even louder.
A lesser man might have felt guilty at missing the wedding of the man who was the only thing he had resembling a friend. But friend was a loose term. And John’s presence would only have raised suspicion and could have ruined his perfect plan.
Falling in love with Lady Marian and giving John the opening to plan the perfect trap was the only useful thing Guy had ever done in his life.
“Of course she was. Criminals like to think they’re so much cleverer than the rest of us.” John let his rings catch the sunlight for a moment before lowering his hand. “Well… until they’re caught.”
The guards threw Robin to her knees, and her screaming stopped. The Sheriff jerked on the chain, and Robin caught herself with her hands. She was a streak of grass and dirt wholly out of place amongst the glittering opulence of the throne room. Her head snapped up and never before had John seen crystal blue burn so brightly.
He gestured to her gag. “I know you spend your time running around a forest and following your impulses like an animal, but if we remove your gag will you prove capable of civilized conversation?”
Her eyes widened, then they narrowed. How quaint. It was a little late for her to be worried about getting caught in a trap. But she nodded.
“Are you certain, Your Highness?” the Sheriff asked, eyeing Robin.
John tightened his fist, showing off his brother’s royal signet specifically and giving the Sheriff a lidded, sharp look. His voice was frozen solid and shook the room despite not being any louder than before. “Are you questioning me?”
The Sheriff immediately signaled for one of his men to take the gag out of her mouth.
It was good to be king. Well, regent.
Robin’s cheeks were still flushed from her screaming. She licked her lips, swallowing as soon as the gag was gone. She didn’t start screaming again, but she was still glaring at him.
“See? Was that so hard?” John leaned his chin on his hand and grinned at her with no substance.
“Get off that throne.”
It was the first time he’d heard her voice in almost six months. Although, the rasping, hoarse quality was likely just because of all the screaming she’d done. Still, it was a wonder they’d believed she’d been a young man at all, given her distinctly feminine, lilting voice. To be fair, stealing didn’t exactly facilitate conversation. And the one time he had spoken with her, she’d tried to disguise it.
John tsked and shook his head. “Criminals don’t get to give orders.”
“There’s only one criminal in this room and it’s not me.”
“Show the Prince Regent some respect!” The Sheriff jerked on the chains, nearly sending Robin face first into the floor, but she caught herself again and didn’t look away from John. She looked at him like she could send an arrow into his heart with her eyes alone. A thrill ran down his spine.
“False kings deserve no respect.” Robin got one of her legs beneath her, pushing herself back up. “And that throne isn’t yours.”
“Well, it’s not like Richard has a use for it while the Esmeans shoot at him. Besides, if they do kill him, then it will be mine.” What a fascinating woman she was. “Shouldn’t you be less concerned with my choice of chair and more about your own life?”
“I can do both.” Robin stood up straight, shaking her head to get her hair out of her face. “Don’t underestimate me.”
John grinned. “I’m the first person who didn’t.”
Robin rattled her manacles. “You can talk tough all you want, but everyone knows you’re too much of a coward to risk your own neck.” She strained against them as her lips curled up.
The young woman who looked like she’d been dragged out of a bush stared at him like he was the dirt on her skin. Perfect.
“I bet you won’t even watch when you have someone else execute me.” Her voice took on an airy superiority. “You wouldn’t want to upset your delicate nerves.”
John swung his legs off the arm of the throne and in one smooth motion pushed himself out of it and strode toward her. He tilted his head as he approached. “Who said anything about execution?”
Robin’s brow furrowed and she tried to take a step back, but the Sheriff kept a tight grip on the chain, preventing her even that. Her balance faltered, and John caught her shoulder, steadying her. Her gaze snapped to his and then she ripped herself out of his grip, hitting the floor with a sneer on her lips.
And people thought he was prideful.
They weren’t wrong, but still.
“Well, I don’t expect you’re going to let me go with a warning.” Robin looked up at him, her voice still rasping. Her tunic was belted at her waist, wrinkled and as dirt-stained as her breeches. He was going to have to have the servants scrub the throne room floor once they were finished. Had she been rolling around in dirt the whole way to Lathe?
Actually, given the struggle she’d given just on her way in here, that probably wasn’t far off from the truth.
Ugh. He should have had them at least dump a bucket of water on her before bringing her in to see him.
He reached down and grabbed the chain between her cuffed wrists and pulled her back up to her feet. The chain at least looked cleaner than she did.
Robin went completely limp, and John almost lost his grip on the chain. However, one of the Sheriff’s men grabbed her by the back of her shirt and hauled her back up, actually lifting her clean off the ground so she couldn’t do anything to be difficult.
That actually brought her eyes closer to his eye level. Perfect.
John reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of parchment. As he unfolded it, taking care with the edges, he said, “You had to know it was only a matter of time until I caught you when these started appearing all over the kingdom.”
Robin’s nostrils were flaring and her breath was huffy as he held up a wanted poster. They’d had wanted posters for Robin ever since her first appearance, but those had been different. Vague descriptions and a drawing of a hooded figure. This was the first one that identified her as a woman and had her face. John held the wanted poster up to her face to compare them side by side.
“Let’s see how close I was,” John said. “I only got a glimpse of you, and the light was fading, so small inaccuracies can be forgiven.”
But there were none. John was excellent with details. The face on the wanted poster was a perfect recreation of Robin’s, down to the intensity of her eyes and the freckle on her right cheekbone.
Stunning. Breathtaking.
His handiwork, he meant.
He asked, “What do you think? It’s your face after all.”
“Unlike you, I don’t spend all day staring at my own reflection.” She tried to kick at him, but the guard jerked her back. “Some of us have more important things to do, like taking care of the people you rob blind.”
“Everyone has to have hobbies, even regents. Don’t you have any?” John lowered the wanted poster, starting to carefully fold it up again. “And no, crime doesn’t count.”
Robin went silent, still visibly fuming at him.
“Nothing else you want to get out? You were quite vocal on your way in.” No response. John leaned in a little, unable and uninterested in keeping his glee from seeping into his voice as he cooed at her. “Come on, all birds sing, don’t they? While our first night together was one I won’t forget, you weren’t very vocal. I like you much better when you speak. Or you can scream if you like.”
John narrowly ducked back in time to avoid Robin’s forehead slamming into his nose.
“You disgusting, vile—”
He caught her chin in his hand, tilting it up to look at him. His voice darkened. “You should be a little nicer to the man who has all your Merry Men’s lives in his hands. I imagine you’re quite attached to them.”
Now that had her attention.
Robin’s nostrils flared again, and she ground out, “Stop playing games and get to the point.”
“The point is I don’t want to execute you.”
Robin still eyed him warily. He adjusted his grip, softening it and cradling her face rather than gripping it. When had his heart started pounding?
This was it. The moment for the history books. His eyes darted down briefly before returning to hers. He had the outlaw. Now…
“I want to marry you.”
She started to jerk her head back, but he resecured his grip, forcing her to look at him. Her eyes were so wide they might as well have popped right out of their sockets. “Are you mad?”
Not the worst reaction he had anticipated.
“Not even a little.” John reached forward with his other hand and brushed her wild, tangled hair out of her face, smoothing it down. His voice was soft, barely a whisper as he moved to paint his best work yet with it. “Doesn’t that sound nice? Being a princess? No more running around the woods and sleeping on the cold dirt? Dodging arrows every day? Always looking over your shoulder?”
He was pleased to feel Robin lean into his palm and see her eyes flutter shut as he spoke, envisioning the possibilities. The tension she had been wearing as her armor started to melt away and why wouldn’t it? That was the real secret to his plan, giving her the thing she could never admit to herself that she wanted. Even the legendary Robin Hood could be tempted if someone only knew what weakness to press on.
He’d seen it in her eyes beneath the hood. She was tired. That kind of life would wear anyone down over the years, especially someone like her. She wasn’t just tired; she was absolutely exhausted. He knew it well. She was ready to give in. He had her exactly where he wanted her.
He’d won.
His smirk grew when she let out a soft sigh. He brushed his thumb over her lip, and Robin’s eyes flew open, burning brighter than the sun. And then she bit him.
She bit him.
John jumped back with a high-pitched, undignified yelp as searing pain ripped through his now bleeding hand. Did she have blades for teeth? What kind of savage bites someone?
Her mouth was coated red as the Sheriff’s men grabbed her and started to haul her back. She spat John’s blood onto the floor and screamed, “I’d rather shove a hot poker through my own chest than marry you!”
Fine. Maybe she wasn’t quite ready to give in. She still had some fight left in her yet.
John held his bleeding hand in the other, clutching it to his chest and swearing under his breath. The guards continued dragging Robin back, as she now struggled against her restraints to get another crack at him. She screamed incoherently as one of them put her gag back on her, smearing the blood on her cheek.
Robin Hood was absolutely feral.
The doors slammed shut.
And Prince John was just getting started.
