“No,” Locksley lied, thinking nobody could know otherwise. “No brothers.”

That legitimately shocked her, and she exchanged another glance of alarm with Will. Lord Walter had spoken sadly and often of his children, while Robin had just denied Edmond’s existence. Tells a thing or two about a man, though what exactly that was, Elena wasn’t sure. Shame, maybe. Though shame was not a river that ran deep in this particular Locksley. Pride, more likely. His reputation with his precious King wouldn’t shine so brightly next to his murderous brother’s.

That agitation got the best of her. “Oh, so you were lying to us?” she asked.

“Pardon?”

“If I said there’s nothing in the world that compares to waking up next to a handsome man, I’d be telling the truth. Right? Because I’ve experienced that. But if Alan said the same thing, it’d be a lie.”

“What?” Alan startled. “How did I get involved in this?”

“Actually,” Arthur broke in, “Alan might know that.”

“No, I…”

“So if you don’t have any brothers, you don’t know what it’s like to have one. Therefore, you’re a liar. Lessin’ you were lying about not having a brother. But why would somebody lie about that?” Elena repositioned to throw Locksley an obvious glare, but all she got was John Little’s prickly face and an elbow in the ribs.

Wait, his face said. He would understand soon enough.

“We’re almost there,” Locksley chimed in shortly after, upon sight of a notable copse of hawthorns. “Another hour and you will all, delightfully, become my father’s problem.”

If he’d been aiming for comedy, he’d missed. Elena felt herself sour to him further. All day they had assumed his intentions, if not his words, were kind. Lord Walter had taken people in to help them, while it seemed his son was only interested in getting rid of them. He had no interest in lending a hand, he just wanted his father to wave a wand and fix it. He thought they were incapable of anything on their own.