I stared at him. What did he mean?
Wasn’t that exactly what everyone had warned me against? The Merry Men had said constantly that they only wanted someone invested in the mission, not someone trailing after a girl like a lovesick puppy. I’d spent months trying to prove I was not merely there because of Laurel, and now James sounded as though he didn’t care about my reasoning.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Dale never would have joined if Robin hadn’t helped him when he needed it. Alan only joined because Dale is his brother. I never planned to join at all. Then I chased Lincoln down after he picked my pocket, we ended up in Sherwood Forest, and somehow I never left.” James shrugged. “Most of us didn’t go looking for the Merry Men. It just happened. And once it did, we chose to stay.”
Relief moved through me so suddenly that I had to lower my head. Maybe I wasn’t as much of an outcast as I had thought. Not everyone had sought out Robin Hood with noble intentions and a grand speech about justice. Some had stumbled into the forest angry, hungry, indebted, lost, or following someone else. The beginning was not the only thing that mattered.
James seemed to read the rest of my thoughts.
“We’re not going to throw you out,” he said. “Your probation will end, just like it did for all of us, and you’ll be just as valuable a member as Laurel or Will or anyone else. You already are. None of the rest of us could do what you’re doing right now. We plan on keeping you around, whatever happens between you and Laurel, I promise.”
For a moment, I couldn’t speak. I’d never had this experience before, sitting with a father figure who listened to my concerns without mocking me. My problems remained—Laurel was still gone, might never forgive all of my past, and our missionwas still dangerous. But the weight on my chest had lessened slightly. I had lost Laurel, but I hadn’t lost everyone.
James slapped his knees and stood. “I have to get going, and you need some sleep. If you want Laurel back, my advice is to show her you’re still invested in this mission whether or not you two are together. Show her that you aren’t only in this for her. I won’t say anything to her, all right?”
I rose to my feet as well. “Thanks, James.” He gave me a small nod, then I forced myself to say the rest before pride stopped me. “You’re a good friend.”
James’s expression softened. He clapped my shoulder, then turned and walked back into the cover of the forest. I stood alone in the clearing for a few moments after he disappeared. When I finally turned back toward the castle, I was breathing a little easier than when I had arrived.
LAUREL
Iresolved to never think about Baron again and focus all my attention on my mission. I didn’t need him, and I would prove it.
Over the next month, I squirreled away everything I could from Prince John’s living quarters and gathered a good amount of information from scraps of parchment, discarded notes, and overheard conversations. I did my best to befriend all the servants, particularly the guards who stood sentry outside John’s rooms. I learned which ones would get suspicious and which ones would answer questions simply because they were bored and wanted someone to talk to. I steered well clear of the barracks and Baron’s men. Even though I kept my hair covered and face averted, and even though they all believed I was dead, I couldn’t risk compromising the mission or let Father and the others down, and I certainly didn’t want Baron to have any reason to think he had been right.
I worked ceaselessly, every day from well before sunup to long past sundown. Agnes marveled over having such a dedicated worker, and Prince John was always pleased with my service. James commended the information I gathered and howwell I had worked my way into everyone’s good graces. I should have felt proud. I did feel proud, in some ways. But pride didn’t keep me warm at night when I returned to the servants’ quarters exhausted and wanting to confide in someone.
I occasionally saw Baron from a distance, but it was never for long when I did. I might catch a glimpse of him crossing the courtyard with his officers or see his broad shoulders disappearing into Prince John’s council chamber, but no matter where I saw him, he never looked for me. Or perhaps he did and was simply better than I was at pretending not to care. Either way, he kept his distance so well that it began to feel like he didn’t miss me nearly as much as I found myself missing him.
That should’ve made things easier. I’d been the one to end things, after all. I’d told him goodbye. I had walked out of his room and left him standing there. It was my own, stupid fault. I had no right to be irritated that he was respecting my decision. But the first time he passed through a corridor where I stood with a basket of linens and didn’t so much as spare a glance in my direction, I found the hollow in my chest constricting so it became harder to breathe and my anger flared back to life.
Fine, then. If he wanted distance, he could have it.
As the weeks of silence dragged on with no word from Father, I began to grow anxious. Had he and the others been captured? Surely if they had released King Richard, someone would have sent word. Or one of the letters I fished out of Prince John’s rubbish would have mentioned it. But no, weeks passed without a single update, and the longer the silence stretched, the more isolated I felt. I had plenty of people around me, but none who truly knew me. Aalis was friendly, but I rarely got a word in with her. She wanted someone to talk at, not someone to talk to.
“Not every mission is a quick one,” James reminded me after another glum meeting with no news from Father. “Sometimes, it’s just a lot of patience.”
“I know,” I said irritably. “And I won’t quit. But I want something to happen.”
“Something that works in our favor, preferably,” James corrected.
I didn’t respond. I wanted to talk to someone, but the only person I had was James, and those meetings were still brief and occasional. Each day, it became increasingly difficult to resist the urge to seek out Baron. He had always been a good listener, when he wasn’t being an infuriating, overprotective blockhead. He was patient and steady. He would let me rage until I ran out of words, then answer with something so calm and reasonable that I would want to throw something at his head and lean against him at the same time.
Then I had to recommit myself for about the millionth time to not think about him anymore.
It was easier to resist going to him and staying angry when I focused on his flaws, so I forced myself to list them whenever my traitorous heart tried to remember anything tender. He was controlling. He thought and worried too much. He acted as though every plan I made had to be inspected at length. He had done terrible things in his past, things I still didn’t know how to reconcile with the man I loved.
Loved.
I hated that the word still came so readily.
Maybe I was only frustrated with my life in general. All the other Merry Men were busy or off on daring missions while I was stuck here emptying chamber pots and scrubbing tables. I wanted to be done. I was done with the tedium of a servant’s life. My hands itched to throw my knives again. I needed to practice with my bow. I wanted to do something other than patiently wait for more information to fall into my lap. I was finished being patient. I wanted to rally the guards to our side and stage an uprising. I wanted to storm into Prince John’s workroom inthe dead of night and steal everything he had. I wanted danger, movement, triumph, and perhaps one reckless moment where Baron would notice and appreciate that I could accomplish anything I set out to do.
“John finally recovered,” James said.
“Recovered?” I asked, confused. Prince John was in perfect health. “From what?”
