The Vengeful Robin

by Erica Andrews

  The Vengeful Robin

  Erica Andrews

  Copyright © 2019 by Erica Andrews

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Preface

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Sneak Peek

  Underground

  30. Chapter 1

  About the Author

  Also by Erica Andrews

  Preface

  The year 1187

  The land of Fraser

  History books were always written one way… for the winners.

  But what if history was written differently… by a girl.

  What if I told you history got everything wrong? That instead of the Crown being the main focus of a battle, it was a woman. And instead of the simple weapons we were thought to have used, we had science and rumors of shifters on our side.

  What if I told you all you’ve ever read about a man named Robin was wrong?

  And he was actually… a girl.

  Don’t believe me?

  Well, this is that story….

  Prologue

  The kingdom of Fraser: old as the sea was blue. And the Lock dynasty had held the monarchy almost as long.

  A land of prestige and wealth, those who lived there basked in being pioneers of technology and science.

  Lodged between the two large imposing forces of the kingdoms of Cameron and Durberb, the kingdom of Fraser held its ground with a massive military and secrets of how it garnered its technology.

  Ruled at this time by King Richard and his queen, peace reigned throughout the land, and the royal couple remained safe in the knowledge the eldest of their three beautiful daughters would ascend to the throne in the coming years... or so they thought.

  But tragedy struck, and the family that held the pieces of the land together for many years was no more.

  One lone daughter escaped, and secrets meant to remain unspoken were released into the open.

  Caught in a horrible new status quo, the kingdom had a king no one wanted on the throne and a princess who wanted to save a country broken by the truths she discovered.

  1

  Robin

  * * *

  “Son of a bitch, that hurts!”

  An arrow protruded from my calf and thin rivulets of blood trickled down my leg, puddling in my boot and squishing in the soft leather soles every time I moved. Gross. The sound turned my stomach, and I breathed through my mouth to stop the onslaught of smells embarrassing me in front of Lily. I’d never show her how much the injuries of battle affected me. How would she trust me to keep her safe then? Mouth open, I drew in short, rapid breaths, a practiced move that settled my stomach while I focused on the task at hand: removing the arrow.

  “I bet you're glad for those treatment shots your dad made us all receive as children. If not, healing that would be a bitch.” Lily wrinkled her nose as she spoke as if she doubted her words would make a difference.

  Waves of nausea rose with each flex of my leg, and I also doubted Lily’s words could help, but how would she know what to say? She’d never been to battle, let alone been shot by an arrow she had to remove herself with no help and little sympathy from her best friend. I rolled my eyes in her general direction.

  A shiver moved through me as my leg twitched again, causing the arrow to quiver. I narrowed my eyes as she tracked the movement and gaped a little. Maybe she did realize it hurt.

  In a lot of ways, Lily was still childlike in her views and had grown used to her girlfriend, Jamie, and I coddling her and keeping her safe from the darker parts of life. After she escaped the clutches of King John, we wanted her to keep whatever innocence she had left.

  Still, it wasn’t really the time for a discussion about the shots we received as children. Removing the arrow seemed much more important than a trip down memory lane. Yet I couldn’t help my mind wandering as I considered how best to proceed.

  Twenty years ago, the kingdom of Fraser made every child line up to receive the country’s newest scientific breakthrough. Only the mysterious scientist my father hired to create the medicine knew the formula, and the ingredients and any side-effects were a top-level security clearance secret. But no one dared question Father’s word or the effectiveness of the “treatment”—it allowed us to heal, run, and fight in ways not normal for anyone. Especially a child. Results were instantaneous, and people gaped in amazement as their children raced down the streets, even out-running the fastest of steeds. It was a miracle, the Palace claimed. And it certainly had been. The lame walked overnight; children born blind could suddenly see… Those lucky enough to be above average became unbeatable.

  And when I, the monarch’s daughter, accepted the shot in public, it ushered in a new era for our family. Showing the king trusted the treatment enough to dose his children gave everyone in the kingdom the courage to do the same. No one ever questioned him again. On anything. Not after I was first in line.

  Looking back, it could all have gone horribly wrong. I could have sprouted horns, or dropped dead on the spot. But I didn’t. In fact, years later, at the age of sixteen, I discovered I was one of the gifted.

  The gifted were those people who started out above average and the drug pushed us into excelling. But I still didn’t understand. All I knew was that while everyone now was fast… I was faster. Where they healed… I healed quicker—and stronger than I’d been before. And where they could fight… I demolished.

  Father always said it was a mixture of the treatment, good old-fashioned Locks grit, and just my natural-born stubbornness—a gift of birth. Whatever the reason, I joined the soldiers, and I trained.

  Mercilessly.

  Day in and day out.

  Like the men in my line, I was good with a sword, but with a bow… I was unstoppable.

  When the first bow touched my hands, it became part of me. As if someone had molded it especially for me and, knowing my father, it had been.

  For the next few years, I slowly rose through the ranks, until four years ago, I was put where I always wanted to be.

  The front lines.

  That day, the people of the village revolted. Someone had whispered poisonous words in the ears of the people we’d looked after, protected, and defended for so long, and the ranks of the lower caste came with pitchforks, shovels, whatever they could get their hands on, trying to gain access to the castle.

  To my family.

  That day, the green fields I used to play in became red with the bloodbath my fellow soldiers and I created.

  With an air of importance, I returned home, expecting cheers of congratulations and a smile on my father’s face, displaying I’d done well. A confirmation that I’d been on the right side of the law—protected the weak and
wrongly accused. And I got it all. He threw a feast for the victors of the battle, and it carried on long into the next day, with us soldiers telling stories of our heroics, while my mother and father scrutinized from their thrones. I was ecstatic. Nothing could take away the eruption of emotions coursing through me at that very moment.

  Then night fell again, as did my mood when the truth stared me in the face.

  On my way to my room, to sleep off the night of inebriation, I saw what could only be described as the… pillaging… of women. I rubbed my eyes, scarcely able to believe women within my kingdom were being roped up like cattle and shuffled down the staircases leading to the dungeons. That was when I first saw Lily.

  Prostitution and rape weren’t the first words that came to my mind, but they were certainly the second and third as I investigated further, and quickly realized that the revolts from earlier, where I’d dutifully slaughtered those who tried to bring my family down, were the family members of those that had been taken.

  I also discovered my Uncle John, the man in charge of the treasury, had taken to using the women to secure payments and settle their debts with the kingdom—on their backs for him or others who worked for him. My own uncle. In my father’s castle. And so many innocent women.

  Half drunk on my new heroics, wine, guilt, and self-loathing for my part in what I had just discovered, I trekked up to my father’s room to let him know of his brother’s deceit and see if I could help fashion the plan to right these wrongs. Our kingdom needed returning to its days of glory.

  In my innocence, I thought that I could correct a travesty. But I was mistaken. And my family and I paid the price.

  Three days later, my uncle, the new king, sat on the throne, while I was sent to do time in the castle dungeon.

  Jon rescued me after three days in the dungeon, and that led to three months of living here, in the enchanted forest, and having Lily as my best friend. It also led to an arrow through my leg and sitting by the trunk of a willow as she teased me mercilessly about the treatment, our friendship, my stubbornness, and how we met.

  But we were both safe from our nightmares in the Fraser kingdom—or so I thought.

  The enchanted forest had shown no signs of King John or his men since the day Jon rescued me, and the supposed seclusion lulled me into a false sense of security. While I wrestled my own demons to prevent them from dragging me into darkness and depression, I thought I had more time to come up with a plan for the kingdom. A plan not only to take back my kingdom, but to make Uncle John’s people pay for what they did. But the soldiers had invaded our haven, and my time to plan had ended. I needed to be ready now. I needed to talk to Smite.

  When I went to guard the rest of the women on their trip to the bathing spring, things changed. I sat on a small hill, watching them frolic and play, and a word I thought I’d never use to describe myself crept into my brain.

  Jealous.

  Maidens I’d rescued had moved on. They were happy while I still fought with the uncomfortable feeling of being trapped in my own skin. It constricted me, tight and dirty. I wanted to strip out of it. Start anew.

  Clean.

  Wipe the ugly away and be comfortable undressing and running naked like the women around me. Even after everything they’d been through, they at least seemed somewhat normal.

  Something I could never say about myself—even before everything fell apart. Princesses were rarely normal. And gifted princesses certainly weren’t. I sat while they played. Then, mid-bath, soldiers I’d trained and fought with arrived, ready to dispose of the women who’d dared to shame King John. They showed that he was weak and that his property could be taken away easily, and I should have known he would never let that stand.

  Anger bored through me, awakening my senses as I stood, poised and ready. Women, who seconds ago had laughed and played, screamed, the sound ripping at my heart, as soldiers attempted to drag them away. I hoisted the bow I carried everywhere and took aim. Jon had commissioned this very unique one for me—after escaping the dungeon, I had nothing of my own, and Jon made sure I had something all mine. It was one of a kind and, with a mechanical reloader, and eyepiece for accuracy, it churned arrows out like clockwork.

  Arrow after arrow flew in rapid succession, picking the soldiers off one by one. I’d practiced since the first day Jon gave it to me, and—proudly—this day, I could say the bow was an extension of my arm, and we worked well together. The last soldier, frantic with terror, finally spotted me in the grass and, using my distraction of self-pride, took aim.

  So, thirty minutes before, Lily had stood half-naked and terrified, but now she sat content, pulling petals from a beautiful flower while laughing at me. She’d come a long way from the frightened girl I found outside King John’s bedchamber. Then she would’ve never laughed at Princess Robin Locks, but neither of us was the same as we used to be. Her blonde hair had grown, and freckles spattered her face and arms from many days spent in the sun. She was beautiful, with an indestructible soul, and I was lucky to have her as a friend.

  I’d changed as well, but not for the better. The only thing that hadn’t changed was I was still the stubborn soldier and princess who refused to die.

  That thought sobered me.

  With a smile that hid my thoughts, I let her win the argument. “You’re right. I’m glad for the damn treatment. Even if no one knows where the shots came from or how the idea started.”

  She smiled, dimples appearing in her cheeks, as she dropped the now plucked flower in her lap. “Why do you have to read into everything? Can't you just relax and be thankful that, in a few hours, the hole in your leg will be gone, and you can go back to brooding and being on alert twenty-four hours?”

  I gritted my teeth, ready for the pain. The snap rang in my ear as I broke the arrow, and I silently counted to three before ripping it out in one swift move. My leg burned as the injury throbbed in time with my heart rate. No matter how many times I got hurt, my ability to bear pain never increased. In sickening detail, I took in the perfect, circular laceration.

  Heat flared around the area, signaling the healing had started. Already, blood began to clot around the edges. By tomorrow, it would be as if nothing had ever happened. I was grateful, even if I did hate needles and had questions. But maybe she was right and I didn't need to know the answers.

  I tossed the broken arrow to the side and grabbed my bow. “Asking questions is what's kept me alive, and if it sounds too good to be true, it usually is. So maybe the question should be: which part is too good to be true?”

  I ignored her huff and slowly pressed my foot to the moss-covered ground to test my weight as I pulled myself to standing. “We need to go. The girls never finished their baths, and I bet they’re back in camp, and the soldiers’ bodies need to be buried.”

  Lily didn’t move an inch, except to look up at the blue sky, her grin still in place. “Robin, slow down. It’s a beautiful day, and other people at camp can do the job. Don’t you think you’ve done enough?”

  She didn't understand.

  No matter how much I did, it would never be enough. Not when pictures of her face and those of many other women haunted my dreams. Nothing would ever be enough.

  I turned a blind eye at her pointed look and held out my hand for her to grab. “Come on, I’m sure Jamie is waiting on you. And worried. You know that’s her general mood when you aren’t around.”

  As I played the girlfriend card, the smile fell from Lily’s lips. She grasped my hand, just a little too tightly, and I pulled her up.

  She looked back at the tree woefully, biting her already pinkened lip. “I know you’re right. I was just enjoying our time together.” She paused, pushing her blonde mass of hair behind her ears. “She does tend to worry. Quite a lot… Do you think it’s weird she worries so much? I mean, when our relationship is so new?”

  She was adorable.

  That she thought I had any answers for her when we both knew my own love life was… unconventional, t
o say the least.

  Just a few steps into our journey, I stopped to lean against the nearest tree, taking some needed weight off my leg. The distance from the village wasn’t that far, but it still twinged with every step.

  Lily glanced at me frowning. We didn’t have time to just stand around and wait for my calf to miraculously heal. If we didn’t leave now, we’d never make it back. And the ache pulsing through my muscles reminded me that while not that far, it seemed too long of a ways to walk. With a small grimace, I walked on, careful to bear weight on my right side.

  “Lily, I’m the last person you should ask for relationship advice...” I blew out a raspberry. “But I think she wouldn't worry if she didn't care, so I count that as a good thing.”

  A smile lit her face as she grabbed my fingers, and I fought not to pull them away. Her hand was smooth as silk, but mine was the opposite, with callouses and scars from my time training. Sometimes, I forgot we were so different, then little things like this reminded me. Lily squeezed my hand lightly. Either she didn’t notice our differences, or she didn’t care.

  “Thanks, Ro. I know you hate talking mushy stuff.”

  I squeezed back, rolling my eyes at her calling me out. “Only for you, Lil. Only you. Now, can we head back to camp or do we need to keep talking mushy?”

  She tugged me down the roughly-hewn path. “Yes, we can go, though I don't think Jon will be happy with you just taking off after killing all those soldiers. You know he worries about you.”