William wet his lips, embarrassed that he needed to. “Robin didn’t kill de Lacy. We were both trying to stop something like that from happening.”

“Then you were both spectacularly unsuccessful.”

Prince John heaved the weapon again, spinning it on one side then another, then lunged the tip out maniacally, reaching over the tabletop that separated them. William again lurched to the side, watching the sword pierce the place he had been standing. But the prince had abandoned the opportunity for a follow-up, instead collapsing onto the table, his head supported lazily by one of his hands. “Robin Hood. You know him, then?”

“We were in the war together,” William answered quickly, instincts urging him to sidestep away. He could run, and easily. There were four exits to the room. But there was no real escape, not if Prince John wanted him dead. Something told William his false bravado moments earlier was precisely the sort of thing Prince John might respect. “Robin and I were at your brother’s side, actually. We’re both here on his orders. We were friends.”

He hadn’t meant to use were until it left his lips. He might have used it to distance himself from Robin in front of the prince. Or he might have used it because it was true.

The prince moved more gracefully now, peeling himself off the table and shifting the sword’s weight from side to side, baiting William’s urge to dodge. “You’re friends with Robin Hood. Now that is interesting. Precisely what sort of shit have I just stepped into?”

“We traveled here together, we were even working together for a while.”

“You worked with the man who murdered your predecessor. Keep talking, this is delightfully incriminating.”

“As I said, he didn’t do that. We have those assassins in prison.”

“And that doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

Slowly now, and with obvious intent, John eased his blade forward. William countered with his hands, guiding the flat of the blade away, once, then again on his opposite side, the tip flicking expertly down to slip up into another line of attack, then a third slow lunge pushed John forward as William retreated. It was more of a dance now; their bodies were close as lovers. John laughed, but only cosmetically.

“My brother did not appoint you Sheriff.”

William swallowed. “Yes, he did.”

“Ooooh.” The sword’s tip dropped down and John hunched his shoulders, inspecting William’s skull. “Well, now I know the other things you said were true, because that was a very obvious lie.”

There was no point in hiding that, then. “He gave me the authority to settle the problems in Nottingham. I would say de Lacy’s death was a problem. So I took control.”

“He was killed by the men your friend Robin organized. You know I’ve thrown coups before, right? I know what they look like.”

“Not successful ones.”