Page 43 of Queen of Sherwood

Rosco scoffed. “Alan said Guinevere has red hair, like waves of crimson thread. Your hair looks like rabbit stew!”

All the whelps around the fire snickered, while Emma just fixed Rosco with a deadly glower.

Rosco’s face brightened like the sun.

You fancy her, Ros, yet tease her as your strategy? A bold move with someone so close to Robin. I’ve seen it work before, though. All Will Scarlet does is goad and prod me until my good-natured demeanor breaks and I shove my cock inside him.

At least Robin isn’t that testy.

Robin said, “Careful, Rosco, or Queen Guinevere will kick your ass.”

Emma smiled at her, nodding. “That’s right. Listen to your leader.”

“She’s your leader, too, stew-head!” Rosco guffawed, throwing up his arms.

“Maybe the new girl could be Guinevere?” Tick offered, glancing over. “Madam Marian, was it?”

Everyone looked over expectantly to Maid Marian, who had a shocked expression on her face. Of all people, she glanced over at Robin, who simply shrugged at her.

“Erm, no, I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Marian fumbled, flapping her hand. “I won’t be partaking.” She turned to leave.

Tick grumbled, “Well you’re no fun,” in a low voice.

My eyes surveyed the four campfires that brightened the glade, and the dark edges of the trees beyond.

Where did my little badger run off to, anyway?

Noticing that Robin had everything in hand, especially with Little John and Robert so close, I wandered away from the fire.

I followed the trajectory I expected Will to take—deeper into the trees—heading west.

When I heard rustling nearby, I pushed branches aside to get a better view. A soft voice crooned just beyond, and I walked through a hedge of thick foliage.

“Will?” I began—

And nearly ran into Gracie and Ada, their faces slanted in the shadows, lips seared together. Grace’s hands cupped Ada’s gaunt cheeks as they kissed.

The girls heard my voice and footsteps and swiftly separated, their cheeks bruised pink with embarrassment. Gracie let out a gasp and Ada yelped.

I stumbled back a step, hands lifting in surrender, and floundered. “O-Oh, shit! Apologies, ladies, I . . .”

I tilted my head. Stared harder at them for a beat. Their heads were bowed in shame and embarrassment, hands folded in front of them to create the very picture of chastity and safety.

Then Gracie’s head whipped up urgently. “Y-You can’t tell my sister! Emma can’t know, sir.”

I pouted. “Can’t know what, dear girl?”

Gracie’s eyes darted to Ada’s bowed face and her dark hair shielding it, then back to me. “That we’re . . . that we’re . . . like you.”

Creases lined my forehead. “I don’t understand. Like me?” I chuckled. “Unless you have a very unexpected surprise you wish to share with me, Gracie, I’m quite sure you’re not like me. I’m a man, however paradoxical it may seem at times. You are young women.”

Gracie frowned. “You know what I mean.”

“I . . .” My voice cut out. I closed my lips. “What do you think you know about me, lass?” My words came out a bit more forceful than I would have liked.

“Um. My sister talks.” Gracie bowed her head deep, even more ashamed. “I-I’m sorry, Sir Alan.”

“I’m not a knight,” I said flatly, staring her down.

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