The Robber Knight's Love

13. Horseplay and Evil Plans

“Go to hell!” a familiar voice shouted from inside. “Didn't you hear me the last time?”

Ayla swallowed. Well, that was what one called a good warm welcome.

“It's me,” she said softly through the door.

Silence.

“Do you still want me to go to hell?” she asked. “I must admit, I don't know the way.”

Silence again. Then: “No. Come in.”

Carefully, she opened the door and stepped inside. Reuben was sitting on his bedstead, leaning against the wall, his hands behind his head, looking at her without saying a word. There was no expression on his face, but Ayla noticed his scimitar-scar was slightly twitching.

He wasn't wearing the red armor anymore; it was stacked in orderly piles on the table and on the chest in the corner. But he was still wearing a mail shirt, and the giant sword at his hip could not be overlooked.

Ayla remembered that sword. Remembered it at her neck. Cold. Hard. Threatening to cut.

She shivered, but then collected herself and cleared her throat.

“I... um... came to see how you were.”

“Fine, thank you,” he said with a slight smile. “Your maid has just informed me that all of us are going to starve to death in about six weeks, but other than that, I'm feeling fabulous.”

Ayla couldn't help it, her own lips twitched in response.

“You have everything you need?” she persisted. “Food? Clothing? A game to pass the time...”

“...and still six guards in front of the door?” he completed the sentence, motioning towards the corridor from where she had entered, and smirking again. “Yes, I have everything I need. You have been most generous, Milady.”

Ayla couldn't believe it. She blushed! She actually blushed! This villain had betrayed her and stolen from her, and he was making her blush because she had the gall to have him guarded?

“The guards aren't here to protect me from you,” she snapped. “They're here to protect you from Sir Isenbard, in case he finds out who you really are! You kind of gave away the game with your impressive entrance into the castle. Any minute now he might come storming down the corridor with a sword in his hand, screaming for the head of the red robber knight on a platter!”

“I can take care of myself,” Reuben grunted.

“I'm perfectly well aware of that! But if he does find out who you are, I don't want you to decapitate him, or him to hurt y—”

She stopped abruptly, realizing how she was about to betray herself.

I don’t want him to hurt you. That was the sort of thing you only said to somebody you really cared about.

Reuben's face softened.

“No”, he said. “I wouldn't want that to happen either.”

There was a pause. Neither of them, it appeared, really knew what to say next. Ayla knew a million things she might have wished to say, but none of them would have been wise and some would be downright improper. In spite of all the feelings raging inside her, this man was still a traitor and a thief.

“So,” he asked in a casual tone of voice, obviously wanting to steer the conversation to less troubled waters. “Anything interesting happen in the castle lately? A filly born? A load of bread baked? A chambermaid deflowered?”

“Reuben!”

“Ah,” he said with a wise nod. “I knew it. What's her name?”

If Ayla had been blushing before, it was nothing to how she blushed now. She felt as if, had she looked in a mirror, she must surely have mistaken her head for an overgrown tomato.