Page 55 of Princess of Thieves

The realization of what they’re asking hits me like a smack in the face.

“No!” I say, eyes wide, pressing a hand to my heart. “Me and...and Guy? Oh God, no! I mean, he was nice to me and gave me stuff, but I never would have...” I cringe. “Honestly, I think he was into weird shit, and not in a good way,” I add, throwing a glance at Will.

Will relaxes with exaggerated relief. “Well, thank God for that.”

“Where the hell is everyone?” booms a voice from downstairs.

“We’re cuddling in the bedroom!” Rob calls back. “Come on up!”

I choke down the laugh that rises in my throat when I realize it’s LJ. He probably won’t like what he sees. Or maybe he will, but...

His dark form looms in the doorway, blocking out the light from the hall. “What,” he says sternly, “thehellis going on in here?”

It’s that same tone I recognized from the other night. Even though I’m exhausted, my body turns over on all cylinders when I hear it.

No, I tell myself,down, girl.At least get a glass of water before round...what, four?

“It’s not what it looks like,” Rob says, then shrugs. “Or maybe it is.”

“Isit?” LJ barks. “The fuck did you do to—”

“They didn’t do anything to me!” I rush in, cutting him off. “Not that I didn’t want to. It’s...we’re fine. Better. It’s all good, I promise.”

I’m almost babbling, but I just want him to understand, to back down just a tiny bit.

LJ’s nostrils flare as he takes in a giant breath. “That’s the truth?” he asks, his voice calmer now as he looks at me.

I nod. “It is.”

Another exhale, then another. “Fine,” he says, swallowing.

Will cocks his head at LJ, still not getting out of bed. “You caught up with our friend, then?”

LJ folds his arms. “Followed him, but nothing unusual to report. Took a shortcut through the woods, but he just went back into town, headed to the barracks. He plopped down at a desk, filled out paperwork, and that’s basically all I saw. Had to get out of there when I realized a bear shouldn’t be hanging around Nottingham.”

“Not in the daylight, that’s for sure,” Rob adds. “Well, thank you. Guess there’s not too much to worry about. Not out of the ordinary anyway.”

“There’s plenty to worry about,” Will mutters. “I’m going to have an ulcer.”

“Really? Seems like you’ve been doing plenty of relaxing activities,” Tuck puts in mildly.

LJ snorts, which makes me smile.

“Hey, while we’re worrying,” I say, “could we maybe eat at the same time? Because I’m starving.”

THE SPREAD IN THE GAMEroom is the closest to a medieval feast I’ve ever seen in person—except, instead of roasted ducks and mince pies or whatever, it’s heaps of hot wings and every fried food you can imagine.

“I still can’t believe it,” Will says, rubbing his forehead. “Maren in pastels.”

I almost choke on my buffalo wing. Instead, I slam it onto the plate and aim a shove at him that misses, my sticky fingers smearing against the glossy surface of the game table instead.

“Hey, it was either that or the gross clothes I escaped in,” I retort. “I just wanted something clean. It could have been a sack for all I cared. Pastel pink wouldn’t have been my first choice.”

“Not that there’s anything wrong with dressing girly if you want to,” Tuck says and fails to hide a little burp behind his hand.

“What he means to say is he’s into that shit,” Rob says, tipping his beer bottle at Tuck and putting a booted foot up on the edge of the table. “Frills, ruffles, bows—the whole nine.”

“I am not,” Tuck says, his face going pink.

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