James looked puzzled. “Being slashed across the chest. You were there, were you not?”
“Oh.” Of course. He was talking about Little John, not Prince John. I felt a prickling sting of guilt. I hadn’t thought about him much lately, not because I did not care, but because everything inside the castle had swallowed so much of my attention. “Yes, I know what you’re talking about now. Isn’t his son a healer? Did he help his dad, or was it Sybil?”
“Peter’s only an apprentice healer right now,” James amended. “Sybil took him on and they did a lot for John together.”
“Good,” I said, though there was little heart in my voice. Of course I wanted John to recover. I wanted all of the Merry Men back and safe. I wanted to return to Sherwood Forest, where I knew who I was and didn’t have to scrub floors while pretending my heart was not aching over a man I refused to forgive.
“Baron has been—” James began.
I cut him off instantly, as I always did when he brought up Baron. “Don’t you need to get going soon?”
“No.”
I pursed my lips. “Well, the others will wonder where I am if I’m gone too long.”
James stood. “I can walk partway back with you.”
I began to stride off before he could say anything else. James and I always met in the forest just beyond the moat, in a small clearing I liked best when the moon shone brightly. Tonight,even the moonlight annoyed me. It made the path too pretty for the mood I was determined to keep.
“Baron’s been making progress with getting Prince John to confide in him,” James said.
“Hmm.”
“He says Prince John won’t make a move for at least another couple weeks. Not until Philip’s army gets here.”
I stared straight ahead. “I’m surprised he hasn’t sold us all out yet,” I commented snippily. “I assumed he would’ve betrayed us by now.”
“You know he wouldn’t do that, Laurel,” James said quietly. “He cares about all of us. You knew that before anyone else.”
I snorted, even though somewhere at my core, I knew it was true. Baron really had changed. He was not the same man he had been under his father. But knowing that didn’t mean I was going to go running back to apologize.
James didn’t elaborate, which also irritated me. It felt good to slander Baron. I wanted to vilify him and to hear someone agree with my accusations, to tell me I had been right to leave, that he was a monster and I was wise for seeing it before it was too late. I wanted reasons that proved he was an enemy, because if he was an enemy, then missing him was foolish instead of painful.
“He probably found someone else already,” I said.
James still didn’t answer.
In my mind, I knew I should stop talking about Baron, but it was as if someone else was slowly taking control of my body and forcing words out of my mouth. “Baron hasn’t even been looking at me. He probably doesn’t even care.”
James still said nothing.
I ground my teeth in frustration. I wanted him to say something. He could validate me or deny the accusations I was making or tell me I was being cruel or else absurd, anything.I wanted to argue, because arguing would be easier than admitting that every time Baron avoided me, it hurt. Every time James mentioned him, I wanted to ask how he was. Every time I imagined Baron with someone else, my insides twisted so violently I wanted to kick something.
But James wouldn’t give me the fight I was looking for.
“See you next week, Laurel,” he said when we reached the edge of the thicket, then he left. My shoulders sagged.
This mission had started off so entertaining. I had loved having Baron close by. I had loved feeling like he and I were pulling the wool over everyone’s eyes together, sharing secret looks across rooms full of people who had no idea what we were to each other. Now it felt like I was completely and utterly alone. I had no one at the castle to confide in. I missed the camaraderie of the Merry Men when we were all together. I missed Sherwood Forest. I missed danger and excitement and the easy certainty of knowing exactly who stood beside me.
But most of all, I missed Baron. My pride wouldn’t allow me to admit that to anyone but myself, and even then, only for a moment. I shook off my self-pity.Snap out of it, Laurel, I told myself firmly. Whining and complaining won’t help. Just get the job done.
I hoped Father would be back soon. If he’d been captured or killed, there was nothing I could do about it from here. Besides, Prince John wouldn’t keep news like that secret. If Father had been killed, word would be spread like wildfire.
But that wouldn’t happen. Father was too clever and cunning to be caught. He would come back, and when he did, I wanted to be ready with good news and a job well done. I certainly didn’t want him to return and realize I had accomplished nothing but pout and sulk over a man.
I walked back across the servants’ footbridge and entered through the small side door. Walter and Otis, one of the guards, were laughing at some joke when I came in.
“Where were you at this time of night?” Walter asked, still grinning.