Bluebeard and the Outlaw by Tara Grayce
Bonus Extended Epilogue
Here we are at the end.
As Reinhault predicted, Gysborn was inundated with both storms and monsters in the months and years after his death. Yet those same storms and monsters turned into the town’s salvation. The storms helped Guy gain respect among the villagers. They might never love him, but they are learning to respect him now that he can show them his true self.
While the monsters proved a tough challenge, the ones we managed to kill provided a source of income for the village. It turns out there is quite the market for exotic meat, poisons, and other items sourced from magical creatures, with the king being our biggest customer.
Yet no matter how many monsters I have killed or will kill, none will be as nightmarish as a certain golden-haired fae with an inviting smile.
As I soon discovered, our outlaw life had been holding back my brothers. John was the next one to get married. He, Will, their wives, and their children are the official foresters, though Guy and I still join a fight or two when we can.
Alan, of course, pursued his dream of becoming a traveling bard, joined by his wife. His tales of the Hood find a ready audience wherever he travels, though I fear the tales have grown and changed in the telling. The story of the duke’s dead wives has separated from the Hood tales, while Maid Marion gained a much larger role, much to Marion’s consternation.
Speaking of Marion, he settled down with the village seamstress, and together he and his wife provide the clothing for the village and the castle.
Tuck found his calling in the castle kitchen, and he is all set to take over running the place once our current head cook retires. Tuck lives here in the castle with his wife and children, and I enjoy having a few of my nieces and nephews always around. Sisters-in-law, it turns out, are wonderful. Nothing at all like that fake sister-in-law I’d made up for my cover story.
Munch is the only one who hasn’t settled down yet. He bounces between living in the forest with John and Will, joining Alan and his family on their travels, and spending time with Guy and me in the castle. But there is no hurry. He has plenty of time.
As for me and Guy, you don’t need to worry. I won’t bore you with all the details of how we fell in love. After all, love is like a lot like archery. It starts with a little natural spark, but that spark won’t go anywhere until you put in the effort of hard work and time.
When I glance up from writing this, I can see him across the room, making humorous faces at our four-month-old son while changing the baby’s dirty swaddling. Our two-year-old daughter clings to Guy’s back, begging in that toddler language of hers for her horsey to start tromping around the room again.
Guy’s laughter rings above the noise, and it’s a beautiful sound I will never get tired of hearing. We are happy, but it is a happiness that came very close to being stolen by the fae.
I write this tale not just to set the record straight, but also to leave a warning to my children, my future grandchildren, and all who happen to read this story.
Beware of fae and their bargains. If it seems too good to be true, then run as far and as fast as you can in the other direction.
I have met good fae. I have even made friends among them.
But those fae come with sincerity and kindness. They give. They don’t take. They don’t speak slimy words and make slippery bargains.
Learn the lesson of the sadistic fae Reinhault and the duke’s murdered wives. Don’t forget the cost.
* * *
Guys leans over my shoulder,now cradling our son in his arms. “You should end it with a line about the importance of love.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not ending this with a clichéd line about love conquering all.”
He kisses my cheek. “How about how a legend defeated her greatest enemy and saved the day?”
“Now that sounds like a much better ending.” I tip my head and kiss him, as our daughter shrieks at the sight and my pen leaves a large inkstain smeared across the page.
* * *
There have been many tales told about the Hood. Many of them are nothing but stories.
But the truth of the story is this. I am Robin Hood. I am a legend. And don’t you forget it.
Signed,
Lady Robin Hood of Gysborn