Page 103 of Ruling the Green

“I haven’t. I can look. You get inside.”

“I’m not going without her.”

“Then at least take this absurd crown off your head,” the archer demanded, reaching up to rip it off.

“I need that.”

“And you can get it later if the crowd doesn’t tear you limb from limb,” she said, flinging it up into the tree canopy.

When it didn’t come crashing back down, we both refocused.

“She shouldn’t be hard to find. She’s wearing that absurd gown,” the woman said.

Then, without any more discussion, we moved through the woods, making our way all the way back toward the arena.

My arm and shoulder were screaming from swinging the damn cudgel. And the woman was almost out of bows, despite stopping to grab any one she found along the way—including out of the bodies of people whimpering on the ground.

But there was no sign of Serin.

No prone body.

No tiara.

No ripped pieces of her gown.

Had she made it back to the palace without me?

Just as I decided to go check, though, someone turned, pointed.

“There he is! Get him!”

“Shit,” the archer hissed. “We have to move. Now!”

There was no time to doubt her.

Not as a mob—angry with my father, but willing to punish me in his place—turned and ran toward us.

We tore through the woods with the woman outpacing me, occasionally turning to send an arrow shooting through the air.

“Right. Go right,” she demanded, not even remotely winded, while my chest felt like it was being crushed by a vise.

I didn’t stop to wonder about her directions, about her loyalty, about where the fuck she was taking me.

The fact of the matter was that without her, I would likely be wishing for death.

So I followed half a step behind her as we tore through the woods for what felt like hours.

Slowly, the sounds of the angry mob fell away.

Then it was just our breath and the crunch of twigs and leaves under our feet.

“Through here,” she said before disappearing under a massive weeping willow.

I nearly fell mid-stride as I came to a stop, wondering what kind of magic I’d just encountered.

Because where I should have simply been under a tree’s hanging fronds, I found myself staring at a wide, round door.

Nursery rhymes came back to me, the kinds of silly songs maidservants and nannies hummed or sang absentmindedly around me, likely how they had for their own children.