Page 54 of Far From Sherwood Forest
If only the stubborn asshole would let me.
I guess if he would have let me five years ago, then it’s my fault he won’t now.
As I move back under the stream of water to rinse my hair, I jump when my back collides with a solid, wet chest. Henry gently guides my arms back to my sides, his touch lingering and making me shiver despite the warmth of the shower. He takes over, his fingers raking through my hair, washing the shampooout. I close my eyes and sink into it.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Henry’s words seem to come out of nowhere, and I blink my eyes open as though I need to be able to see to know none of this is happening only in my head.
“Okay.”
He pauses what he’s doing like he’s just as surprised by my reply as I am by him mentioning it in the first place.
Maybe there was a time when I would’ve tried to pry, but I’ve learned that’s not the right way to deal with Henry. I haven’t quite figured out what the right way is, but I’m determined to crack the riddle.
After he finishes with my hair, he picks up the shampoo bottle to wash his own. I keep my back to him, wondering if I should speak or stay silent.
This moment feels so fragile. It doesn’t feelreal.
I need to be careful so I don’t ruin it.
“You asked me before if I would go back if I could.” I pick up his body wash from the shelf, deciding I can’t help but want to talk to him, to try to peel back those layers. I just have to be gentle. “I never asked you the same thing.”
He’s silent for a long while, the sounds of running water and washing taking up all the space. I don’t push him, giving him time and the choice to answer at all or not. I keep my back to him too. Maybe if he can’t see my face, he won’t feel pressured. He won’t feel vulnerable.
Just when I think he won’t answer, my patience eventually pays off.
“I don’t think I would. I spent too much time learning my way in this world. Even though I had a rough start, I actually feel like I fit better here than I did there.”
It’s more than I expected him to give me and comes as a bit of a shock. I might feel the same, but I would have guessed hefelt the opposite. I don’t say that, though, staying quiet in case he decides to give me more.
“That’s the first time I’ve thought that,” he says with an exhale through his nose as though he surprised himself with the truth too. “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t particularly like people here either. But, here…they don’t expect as much of me.”
“Is it that they don’t expect as much?” Taking a risk, I turn to face him. The true risk turns out to be how much of a distraction the sight of his naked body can possibly be. “Or that they don’t expect the same things as they did back in Nottingham?”
Henry stares at me, his brow furrowed so deep like he hadn’t even thought of it that way.
“Maybe that.” He tilts his head, and I swear I can see a glimmer in his eyes. “I fucking hated that spoiled ass prince.”
I can’t stop the short laugh that bubbles up. However, it fades quickly.
“Why did you serve him? Why did you…”
My voice dies before I can ask the question, and I look away. I told him I forgive him. Asking that feels like a contradiction.
“Why did I kill your father?”
I keep my eyes down and stay quiet, which ends up being enough confirmation for him.
“Because your father was a lord, and my orders were to kill any influential people who refused to pledge their allegiance to Prince John, whose loyalty remained with the king. But that’s not what you really want to ask.”
My gaze snaps to his.
“You want to know if I regret it.”
“Do you?” I ask as I hold my breath, my voice barely a whisper.
His eyes bounce between mine then dip down to my mouth, as though he’s memorizing my face. “If I said I didn’t, would you take back your forgiveness?”
