“Better dead than watching your king feast while children starve!” I retort, blocking a strike.
But Robyn celebrates too soon. A lucky hit sends my sword spinning away. In the water, the dagger waits for my descent. I make sure camera four catches me noticing it as I stare into the dark water below.
I’ve trained for this.
Those endless practice sessions in the tub, the swim in the pool with Mama back home, the fearlessness I’ve developed—they’ve all led to this scene.
A blade finds my leg—well, finds the blood pack on my leg. I cry out dramatically. Moving fast, I roll away from an incoming hit and give myself some breathing room before the dive.
Ready. Set.
I plunge into the freezing lake. The water embraces me. Under my costume, Dante’s ring is cold against my chest, like the ice was that day he helped me get through my panic attack.
Through the murk, I spot my target, the dagger nestled between the rocks. I kick down, grasp it, push off the stone lakebed, and burst from the water before I climb back onto the dock.
“Thought you could get rid of me?” I taunt, twirling my blade exactly how Dante taught me.
The rest of the fight choreography is like muscle memory in my skin.
Duck, spin, sweep—one guard down.
Dodge, step in, strike—another falls.
“Tell your king,” I announce, “Northwood Forest has a defender now, and her name is Robyn Hood.”
The last guard grabs for the gold. I’m faster, snatching the bag away. With a smirk and a wink, I dive back into the water and swim toward the getaway rafts.
“CUT! Fucking marvelous!” Amara’s voice rings across the lake.
I stop swimming, gasping but grinning. The entire crew erupts in cheers and applause. Through the celebration, I spot Dante’s face as I swim toward the dock.
“I did it!” I exclaim. “From panic attacks to freakin’ perfect takes, and I called that last adjustment!”
Dante wraps a thick towel around my shoulders and pulls me into a tight embrace. “That dive was fucking perfect.”
“The suit worked perfectly—not a single leak! And the ring…Dante, the ring helped so much. It was such a smart idea; it keptme so present.” I swallow. “That fight sequence—did you see how smooth it was? I actually enjoyed being in the water! The angles I discussed with Amara have really worked.”
“Yes, baby, I saw all of that. I—” He stops, and something shifts in his expression.
Baby. Before I can stop myself, I rise onto my tiptoes and press my lips to his. In front of everyone, and I don’t care because there’s nothing I want more than to kiss Dante Hastings, dizzily and sweetly.
For one perfect second, there’s just us.
Then I remember we’re on set and pull away with an awkward laugh. “Oh, I’m sorry, I just got carried away there.”
“Reese.” I spot Heather at the dock’s edge, looking out of place among our medieval costumes in her crisp business suit and stilettos. Her expression is apologetic but urgent. “I hate to interrupt this moment,” she says carefully, “but I need to speak to you.”
My stomach tightens.
“You alright?” Dante asks.
“Yeah, totally fine,” I lie. “Just…Heather doesn’t do set visits unless there’s a five-alarm fire somewhere.” My fingers unconsciously trace Dante’s hands before I pull away.
I ache at the distance I create. This film, my vision, has to come first. Always first.
I give him an apologetic look before following Heather, who’s already clicking down the dock in her heels. My heart is still racing, but not just from the dive—it’s that familiar anxiety creeping in at the edges, the one that whispers I can’t afford any distractions.
My brain helpfully supplies worst-case scenarios. Is the movie cancelled? Did someone die? Are my parents okay?
