Page 92 of Queen of Sherwood

I leaned back against him, looking away, and sighed. “I know that, Tuck. All I’m saying is he’s capable of lying, of profiting off the suffering of others. He has ambition and drive, and with power like that, he could easily wield it to do great evil. If he’s that kind of man.”

“It’s a big if you’re asking, lass.”

“That’s where we disagree. Because I’ve known men my entire life—”

“So have I.”

“—and I know what they’re capable of. Even the kindliest, friendliest face you’ll ever see.”

He paused a beat. Then: “I wish you weren’t so cynical, little heathen.”

I snorted. “And I wish you weren’t so honest and good.”

“I’m far from good, love. I killed men with my bare hands tonight.”

With my eyes growing droopy, I said, “I won’t push you to join me on this anymore, Tuck. I understand your position. But I have to ask you to allow me to do this. To exhaust every option, every search, every question—”

“You have it, Robin. You always have my acceptance. I’ll never try to steal something so important from you, lass, because I love you. You must know that.”

“And I love you, Tuck. Always.”

We fell into companionable silence, my head in his lap. The wave of tension between us felt lifted, and I smiled as I closed my eyes for the final time.

“Promise me one thing, Robin.”

I nodded vaguely, already drifting off. The world of the living and the world of dreams mingled together into one cohesive wave, and I couldn’t tell the two apart.

“Promise me you won’t kill him.”

I said nothing for a long time. Thought nothing, because I was already going under.

Then, just before I slipped away into a deep slumber, I mumbled, “I promise, Tuck.”

I might not have sounded convincing. Might not have even thought much of it, because I didn’t go through all the stipulations or possibilities, or try to unpack what he was asking of me and what it meant.

It didn’t matter, because Tuck had asked it of me. I loved Tuck and wanted us to be right, so I would do as he asked.

All I knew, for certain, was that I desperately wanted to believe my promise.

Chapter 25

Robin

“ROBIN!”

I jolted up from Tuck’s lap, my head swimming, my eyes burning and bleary. Tuck also popped up with a gasp, torn from slumber.

The voice had been a shriek. Calling my name.

I shared a confused look with Friar Tuck, who appeared just as tired and stunned as I was. “W-What was that?” I croaked. “A dream?”

I sniffed. The sharp smell of burning pine and oak.

Then I noticed smoke curling in underneath the flap of the tent, slowly wafting into the small space.

I coughed.

“Shit!” Tuck swore, rolling off his cot.