How to Win Friends and Influence Your Victimsby Robin Hood. Instant bestseller with the Hallowed who are clueless as to what makes a true hero.
I gesture to the wanted poster still sticking out of Hart’s belt. “We have no coin and are currently wanted by the Idols.”
Theo groans and rests his head on my back. “Never announce your wanted status to the enemy.”
Is that like a dating thing too? Because all of these knights are taken. I give Stabitha the stink eye. She might stab people on purpose, but I don’t even have to try. Put a blade in my hand, and I guarantee at least three folks will be bleeding within ten tempos.
Another bandit squints at the parchment. “Wait.” He leans closer, and his eyes widen as they flick between the terrible rendition of me and my real face. “Oh.”
“Oh, what?” Nash asks.
“You’re Daphne Stone.”
Silence falls as the bandits absorb my presence. Good luck. I’ve been here many an annus and I still have no idea what to do.
The man with the saucepan helmet gasps and points at my face. “The one with the mouth.”
“Hello,” I say with a wave and a smile. I lean back against Theo and lower my voice. “Is it strange for a maiden to own a mouth? Because there’s a lot of attention on that fact.”
His eyes drop to my lips like he’s checking in before answering. “No one has your mouth. That’s the distinction.”
Well, it’s reassuring that my mouth isn’t cheating on me with another.
The hooded leader groans. “Oh, for the love of narrative.”
“Is this bad?” one of his bandits whispers.
“Yes,” he mutters. “Extremely.”
Theo’s arm tightens around me. “You should leave,” he warns. “If you try to take her, you will take your last breath here today beneath this canopy of leaves, where your bodies will rot.”
That’s rather dark, but I don’t sense the intention to kidnap me. Of course, I once thought Gaston had good intentions when he offered me pancakes for breakfast. I didn’t realize it was in payment for a night with my body. Both of us were disappointed. Him with the blue balls that would surely end him, and me with an empty stomach. Only one of those things is a medical emergency.
The bandit leader rubs his temples just like Gwyneth does. I never found the appeal in temple rubbing. It doesn’t help me to make good choices. “Right.” He turns to his group. “New plan.”
“What plan?” Barry asks.
“We rob someone else.” There’s a collective groan, and a shorter bandit raises a hand. “Yes, Pudding Tom?”
Pudding Tom because he has all the sweet treats on his person? Now here’s someone to befriend.
“What about the horses?”
Theo’s dragon heat surges through his skin. Pudding Tom’s hand tembles as he lowers it.
“Not the horses,” Robin declares. Smart man. The hooded leader gives me a dramatic bow. “Apologies, Lady Grimm. Had we known it was you, we would have ambushed someone less likely to rewrite our existence.”
“Flattering,” I say. I’m not convinced about that title when the best they came up with for themselves was variations of a bottom. “And forgiven.”
I hate anyone bowing to me. No one is above anyone else in this life. That’s what needs to change.
He straightens. “Continue on with your destiny or whatever it is architects do.”
Stabitha twists her lips as she assesses me. “We should escort them out of the forest at least. Not all who dwell here are friends of the Grimm bloodline.”
Robin sighs like it’s a bother to guard our safety when he commits crime for a living. “Fine. Barry, Dave, and Big Ned shall stalk the forest ahead, clearing out any ill intent.”
A guy twice the size of everyone moves out of the bushes. How in the Blazes did we miss him?
