I stayed at the treetop for hours. When I ventured down, I found Rob and John both sleeping as high as they could get. Whether it were to protect me or cage me in, I weren’t sure. I tried to move past them, but Rob woke up.

“Scar, you can’t go alone.”

“I can.”

“Let me look at your face, Scarlet.”

I turned toward him. “There. Look.” I knew it were bad, but it weren’t like he fancied my face anyway; might as well let Godfrey muck it up.

“Christ, Scar. Why didn’t you fight him? He said you didn’t even fight him.”

I shrugged. “It’s my fault his sister’s suffering a fate worse than death. Me taking a punch makes him feel better, so be it.”

“You didn’t deserve it, Scar.”

“Yeah I did.”

“Why, because we stuck to the plan? Many things you can do, but seeing the future isn’t one of them.”

“I should have known better. Shouldn’t have let them stay there all night. You’re coming up with the plans from now on, you know.”

“You saved Godfrey, Scar.”

“And I might as well have killed Ravenna.”

“You think I haven’t made mistakes?”

“Not like this.”

Rob swung closer to me. “What do I have to do to convince you you’re not some gutter rat, Scar? You deserve better than all this.”

I shook my head, slipping down through the branches. He shouldn’t say that to me. I were a rat. I were a thief, a liar, a no-good sort. Even Rob, a hero to be sure, looked at me and saw nothing but tar and scars. He shouldn’t make me believe he thought different when he already said his piece.

“I’m coming with you.”

“No one’s coming with me, Rob.” I dropped to the ground, and he dropped right behind me. “I’ll knock you out if I have to.”

He kept on, and I swung around to backhand his mug, but he caught my arm, grabbing the other arm and hauling me against him, my back to his front. “And I’ll truss you up if I have to.”

I whipped my head back but he dodged it, and I tried to kick him but he moved.

“Christ, Scar, quit fighting me!”

I stopped, but angry blood were roaring through me.

“This well may be one of the worst nights you’ve had, Scar, but we can’t win all the time. If we could, we’d be the ones in the castle.”

“I will make it right!”

“Scar, you can’t—”

“Do you know what he’s doing to her?” I snapped, bucking his grip again.

“Do you?” he asked. “Do you? Is that what all this is about? Some London lord hurt you like he’s hurting her?”

Joanna’s voice saying good-bye and shutting the door rattled through my head. Never since had I felt as awful and helpless as when she left on her own two feet, night after night, to do the things I wouldn’t never speak of. Not to anyone. Never to Rob.

I shook my head, more to get it out of my head than to answer him. My eyes squeezed tight, and water slipped out. I hit him in the gut. “Stop guessing things! You know nothing ’bout my life, Robin Hood, and you know nothing ’bout me!”

“Scar,” he murmured, soft in my ear. He pulled me down to the ground, still holding me vise-tight. “Scarlet, what happened to you?”

“Nothing,” I fessed. “Nothing never happened to me. It all happened to her. She took it all on and I didn’t help her none.”

“Who, Scar?”

I shook my head again. Her final good-bye were the worst by far, when she didn’t want to go willing, when she were taken from me, hurting and in pain. I could see Joanna, pretty blond hair and happy blue eyes, and it were like the vision turned to ash in my head. Her skin went gray and pale, her hair lost its light, and her eyes went dark—blood on her sheets and her mouth and her hands from all her coughing.

“I left right after Richard conquered Acre,” Rob whispered against my head.

I stopped moving, confused. “What?”

“When I got the news, about my father. It was right after Acre, and I wanted any excuse to leave.” He shook his head against mine, and I were quiet, waiting to hear. “We had thousands of prisoners. The negotiations had gone on too long, so they weren’t the enemy anymore. They were our prisoners, but they were men and women and children that we spoke with. We ate with. And then Richard ordered us to kill every last one of them, and we did. I played dice with a boy not much younger than myself one day, and the next I took his head off with one stroke of my sword.”

He paused, and our breath huffed hard from tussling.

“When I left on Crusade I was fifteen. I was a boy, responding to Richard’s call for holy soldiers. I went with him, campaigning for funds through Europe on the way to the Holy Land. I was a boy up until the moment I drew my sword. And then I was a man, and I had already done unforgivable things.” Rob’s head pressed harder against mine. “I know what it’s like to look into your past and see nothing but your mistakes,” he said.

My fingers crushed tight into his skin, clawing him like if I could break the skin we’d be connected by blood, and I could comfort him and he could see into me without me having to speak out loud. “They were your orders, Rob. You were a soldier for the King’s Crusade. It can’t be a mistake if you didn’t have a choice.”