Robin pinched her lips shut. He had a point. “A hungry servant trying to ensure her own safety, even if it was not by the best means,” she finally said.
“No.” King Frederich’s voice took on an authoritative tone. “Her intent was harmful, and she will carry out the rest of her just sentence in the palace kitchens.”
Robin stood, anger coursing through her. “I think you are wrong.” Then she turned and fled from the room.
Footsteps followed her, and she slowed when she saw Ian over her shoulder.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
Robin shook her head, squeezing back tears of anger and frustration and embarrassment.
“He’s doing the best he can,” Ian said. “I understand it feels harsh, but he can’t go back on his word. Our people will notice and attempt to take advantage of that.”
Robin widened her eyes. Ian was generally a logical thinker, but he didn’t seem to grasp the depth of this situation. “He’s worried about what people will think of him?”
“My father is known for being a just man.” Ian crossed his arms.
“IS he a just man?” Robin spat back. This was her king she was speaking of. But it was easier to question his rulings behind his back.
“Of course he is!” Ian said. “He’s the most just king the five kingdoms have ever had. Why are you so adamant about this, anyway? Don’t you remember what that girl did? She hurt you. Deliberately.”
“And you’ve never hurt one of your brothers in a brawl?” Robin countered.
“I’ve never tried to kill an innocent animal.” Ian crossed his arms over his chest.
“You’ve also never gone to bed hungry,” Robin pressed, still speaking more loudly than was necessary. “Or worked the frozen ground to coax life out of it, or watched your family die from sickness?”
Ian crossed him arms. “You talk as though I’ve never experienced hardship, which is unjust.”
“You haven’t experienced hardship to the point of desperation,” Robin said. “And you want to know what is unjust? Sentencing a desperate peasant to a year of eating turnips.”
Robin turned and walked away from Ian. She was done fighting him over this. She didn’t know what to do about the situation, but something about it felt desperately wrong.
“Have you already forgotten what she did to Humphrey?” Ian called, following behind her.
“No!” Robin yelled. But her heart betrayed her, fluttering uncomfortably in her chest. She had the overwhelming desire to rush to the stables and see that her donkey was safe and well.
Lind had deliberately tried to kill him.
Robin clenched her fists as fresh anger flooded through her body. How could anyone be so cruel to an animal?
“No!” she yelled again, emotions warring inside her. “This isn’t just. I can’t explain it, but I know it.”
“It might be a little unjust,” Ian admitted. “But it is not all that bad. And there is nothing we can do about it now.”
“There’s always something that can be done,” Robin replied.
Robin pushed openthe door to Bernard’s study, Ilida behind her. The steward had requested her presence to discuss a matter of great importance. Robin assumed that this matter was related to the dire state of the manor’s coffers if it was taking place over Bernard’s desk.
For a moment, she was surprised to see Ian standing in room, his arms crossed.
As the treasurer for both Lockwood and River’s Talon, Bernard kept both the coin and the lending log under lock and key.
But seeing as Ian had earned the trust of everyone else at Lockwood, she shrugged away her surprise.
Ian, however, appeared slightly surprised to see her. “Robin!” he said, holding up his hands. “I did not agree to this ambush.”
Ilida closed the door behind Robin. “It is not an ambush,” the steward said. “I told you this is the only way to get her to listen.”
