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“Is that what you’d do? If you were the Rogue?” he asked.

Grace started. If she were the Rogue? He’d said it so casually.

Though she often dreamed of it, she hadn’t voiced the idea in two years. The words hovered in the air, there for the claiming. For declaring as truth, not question.

Here was someone willing to fight alongside her. She wouldn’t be alone.

Could she risk it?

No, she was being illogical. If the noose didn’t get the Rogue, the Zerudorn gold would.

But her commitment to the future her parents expected wavered. To have someone here, in person, enjoying her company and beckoning her into her dream life was tempting.

Could it hurt to pretend, for a moment, that the roles were reversed? That she sat on the branch, and James stood there, asking her to remove her hood.

“With hair like mine? I might as well shout my name from the treetops.”

“So, you’re asking me to remove my hood because…?”

Because… because she wasn’t the Rogue, and he couldn’t be either, not if he cared about the lives of their people. Grace had to remember why she was here. To prove she was a true Protector by stopping a doomed rebellion before it started. And by astounding this secret-keeper before her with her cleverness.

She smiled. “You can’t possibly have such identifiable hair,” she lied, thinking of James’s curls. “Besides, I’m an ally.”

“Are you?” His response was measured. Grace searched his face, or tried to. Shadow, cloth, and mask hid all the markers of emotion. Was he actually asking if she was on his side? Or teasing? Disbelieving, maybe?

“Of course I am.”

“I see.” The Rogue began to shift, trying to stand up on his branch. He only made it onto his knees. Hugging the trunk, hecautiously stepped down onto a lower branch. From there, he jumped, landing heavy and loud, five feet from her.

He was panting. “How… how’d you like to go for a stroll?”

“You want to go for a stroll? Now? In the forest?”

The man shrugged.

Grace felt a flutter of excitement in her chest. The Rogue wanted to wander Sherwood Forest with her, like she’d asked James to do. More evidence of his identity.

Then she frowned. If they were already at the maple grove, how deep into Sherwood Forest did he want to wander?

She thought of the weakening wards on the forest fortress. She didn’t want to get anywhere close to that safe haven.

“No,” she said, rather emphatically.

“I see.”

Grace didn’t need to see his face to recognize disappointment. An odd mix of giddiness and regret tugged at her heart. She was wanted.

She rushed to explain herself. “It’s just that…” Her voice trailed off. She couldn’t tell him about the wards, dodo that she was. What was it she’d spent all day preparing to say? “It’s just… that’s not why I’m here.”

“Whyareyou here, then?”

Grace nodded. “I’m here to convince you that being the Rogue isn’t the right way to help Fidara.”

“You already tried that, twice.”

Grace crossed her arms, trying to embody the “voice of reason” title she’d given herself in her letter to him.

“I don’t give up easily. Not when I have logic on my side.”