Until Laurel.
When they chained her to me, I’d expected she’d slit my throat the first chance she got. Instead, she stunned me with her defiance, her courage, and her stalwart confidence. I found myself soaking in every moment we spent side by side. When she escaped, I tracked her with a purpose beyond duty. She fascinated me, challenged me, and terrified me all at once.
All those months, I had been increasingly disgusted with myself as I selfishly forced Laurel to stay imprisoned because I was too cowardly to do the right thing and let her go free. I rationalized it, telling myself that I was doing it for her own good. I told myself that she would’ve died on her own. But it had been a lie. She was clever and resourceful and would have been fine. Hadn’t she proved that time and again? It was I who would have been tormented by her absence.
It tore me apart, having the woman of my dreams so close and yet still so far out of reach. The slow torture hurt worse than anything my father ever inflicted upon me. I thought I would be driven mad by it. So many times, I nearly reached my breaking point, about to beg her to stay with me, but I always held myself back. A girl like her had no business being with someone like me. I was terrified that she would become aware of my feelings and be repulsed by me. If I had professed my love for her and she rejected me, or worse, laughed at me for even thinking there was a chance with her… It was a thought too painful to bear, so I always resisted. I reminded myself continually that it was impossible. We were too different.
I had resigned myself to care for her from a distance and protect her in whatever small, secret ways I could until she escaped for good. But then the impossible happened. She asked me to run away with her. She wanted me, or at least the best parts of me that I let show around her. For the first time, I saw a version of myself that might be worthy of her, complete with a future I never would have been brave enough to choose alone. Even a small chance with her was better than no chance at all, and I hadn’t hesitated to turn on everyone else I had known. It was what I was best at.
When Laurel finally released me, she smiled. It wasn’t her usual smirk or the infuriatingly cocky grin she wore most of the time. She smiled softly in a way that looked like sunlight breaking through storm clouds and it hit me square in the chest.She was so beautiful.She always had been, but that smile… it made something inside me want to never stop looking at her.
“Baron,” she said quietly, “there will always be risk when we’re doing the right thing. But I don’t go looking for death. If Prince John is really planning a revolt, we have to strike first, before he can gather momentum. The only thing worse than dying would be living with the guilt of knowing I could’ve stopped him but didn’t.” Her eyes shone with conviction. “Sometimes there isn’t anyone else to step in. Sometimes I have to be that person. If I don’t, who will?”
A knot twisted in my stomach.The cost of her courage was what I feared. She didn’t see the danger the same way I did. She hadn’t grown up watching men torture servants for amusement, or listening to Prince John laugh at someone’s screams. She didn’t know what awaited her behind those castle walls.
Laurel must’ve noticed my hesitation, because her voice softened but didn’t waver. “Baron, I’m doing this. With or without you.” The certainty in her tone was a punch to the gut. “Ican’t sit back and do nothing. I want your help and I trust you. I feel safer with you beside me. But whether you join us or not…it won’t change what I’m going to do.”
My heart lurched.She had already decided. Just like that.She was going to throw herself into the path of a revolt she had no hope of stopping alone. How could one girl—one impossible, brilliant, maddening girl—stand against the combined power of Prince John and every loyal knight in his command?
I tried to picture myself returning to the Cresswell Crags. I would be the Sheriff of Nottingham and would accept the future my father had always wanted for me. Before Laurel, it had been my dream. But now the thought curdled my stomach. I didn’t want it anymore. I wanted something better.
I wantedher.
Laurel’s fingers brushed my cheek. “Please help us, Baron,” she whispered. “I need you.”
Blast it all.
She always knew exactly what words would undo me.
“I’ll help,” I muttered, defeated by the inevitable.
Her entire face brightened and she grabbed my hand without hesitation. “Come on, then! Let’s figure out a way to stay alive and cause a little chaos for Prince John.”
She tugged me forward, already half pulling me back the way she’d come. I followed, though reluctance gnawed at me. I was still convinced that this plan would be doomed to failure. It was a futile siege. But better to include myself in the plans. I couldn’t walk away. Even if it meant risking my own life, I needed to figure out how to protect Laurel from Prince John’s army… and from herself.
LAUREL
When Baron and I returned to the others, the mood had shifted and not in our favor. Father stood with his arms crossed, jaw set, the fire in his eyes matching the copper blaze of his hair. I’d been told my whole life that my temper came from him. He was usually quick with a grin and a joke, but when his patience snapped, there was nothing gentle about it.
“Answer one question for me,” Father said, his voice low and dangerous as he fixed Baron with a hard stare. “Why are you here?”
Baron straightened. “What do you mean?”
Father glanced at me, just once, before looking back at him. “Are you here because you believe in what we’re doing, or because you think my daughter wants you to be?”
“Father—” I began, but he cut me off with a sharp wave of his hand.
Baron said nothing.
“If you’re here to impress Laurel,” Father continued, each word biting, “then I suggest you leave now. Plenty of boys have tried that and failed. You’re already on probation for this very reason. We don’t need admirers; we need fighters. Anyone whofolds at the first sign of trouble is a liability.” His mouth thinned. “And liabilities are cowards.”
“Father!” I snapped. “Baron’s not a coward and he won’t be a liability.”
Will Scarlet stepped in before Father could respond. His tone was gentler, but no less firm. “It’s true, Laurel. If he’s only here because of you, it could ruin everything. He would hesitate the moment you’re in danger, and hesitation gets people killed. We can’t afford divided loyalties.”
I looked around at our motley band of outlaws. Every person here had already paid dearly for this cause. There had been family members and friends who passed away, and homes and fortunes given up to join the Merry Men. Would Baron be willing to pay the same price?
I glanced at him. His face was unreadable, as ever. I didn’t want him in danger, but the truth was impossible to ignore: we needed Baron for our plan to have the best chance of success, and it was a risk to trust him when his allegiances had turned so recently. But I also felt sure that if anyone could survive this, it was him.
