Page 21 of The Uncrowned Prince

“I doubt there will be much of a threat, but we can decide once we speak to her. See if she’s as strange as Boden claims.”

But after they made their way through the market crowd, past the sellers of chickens and geese, past the cheesemongers and the bakers to the purveyors of medicine and herbs… The stall Boden had described was empty.

It was one of the permanent installations, with wooden walls between each seller and a sturdy counter at the front to keep market goers from entering. It suggested the woman was well established and did a brisk business, but whoever she was, she had not come to market that day, which might also indicate a healthy degree of caution. Possession of that medallion meant she was likely of imperial origin, and she may well have hesitated to make an appearance when anyone of her nationality might come under suspicion.

Vaniell was still staring at the empty counter when he heard a commotion behind them—the sound of heavy boots and voices raised in both command and complaint.

A troop of guardsmen were advancing through the crowd, a cluster of grim faces and blue tabards amidst the sea of merchants and their customers. Their hands rested on their weapons, and they seemed to be questioning each person briefly before moving on, as though searching for something specific. Or someone…

Karreya’s appearance had not changed much since her experiences of the day before, so it would be foolish to expect that the guards would overlook her now. And given the suspicious atmosphere of the city as a whole, Vaniell had little doubt that they would eventually attempt to detain her for questioning.

Attempt being the correct word, because he had every confidence they would fail. However, someone was likely to be hurt in the process, and he did not like to think of Karreya being forced to take a life in order to escape. Nor could he afford the kind of scrutiny he would receive in the aftermath of such an encounter.

A quick glance around confirmed that the crowd was not quite thick enough to simply disappear among them, so they would have to hide.

“Follow me,” he murmured, and without waiting for questions or explanations, he vaulted over the counter at the front of the empty booth and ducked beneath it.

Karreya followed him over the counter, but then proceeded to stand there in plain sight, frowning as she scanned the crowd. “Why are you hiding from the guards?” she inquired. “We have done nothing wrong. And did you not indicate that your presence would provide the necessary protection from their suspicions?”

“Would you please get down?” Vaniell hissed. “The last thing you want is to look like you’re trying to rob a merchant.”

The sound of boots grew louder even from where he huddled beneath the booth, but Karreya wasn’t moving.

“I am not robbing anyone,” she said, “and why should I…”

Vaniell groaned, muttered a brief prayer to the Irians’ patron god of fools, and reached out to grasp her wrist. His quick, firm tug seemed to catch her completely by surprise, allowing him to yank her down and under the counter, where she sprawled beside him in an untidy heap of limbs, knives, and pure fury.

She was so fast, she had already risen to a crouch, one hand on the hilt of a knife, when the sound of booted feet stopped in front of the empty booth.

Empty but for Vaniell and Karreya, who huddled beneath the rough slab of wood with only inches between them, Vaniell’s hand outstretched to place a single finger across her parted lips. Begging her for silence.

“Where’s Senaya?” a gruff voice called. “I could swear I saw someone moving over here, but her place is empty today.”

“Might be she’s sick,” a bright, confident feminine voice answered from the booth next door. “She wasn’t here yesterday, either.”

“Hmm.”

Vaniell didn’t need to see the guard’s face to know his suspicions had been roused.

“She’s not a local, is she?”

But the neighboring merchant seemed to bristle instantly in defense.

“Ganner, don’t youdarego talking about Sen that way. She’s been here for longer than you have, and I’ve not seen her be anything but kind and generous. You know she gives away as much as she sells. Never cheats her customers or badmouths her competition.”

“Don’t mean she’s not a spy,” the guard grumbled.

“I’ve half a mind to come out there and thump you,” the woman announced indignantly. “Making it so an honest woman is afraid to make a living.”

“Can’t blame us for asking questions,” the guard insisted. “No one can sleep safe until we have the black-hearted…” Here he devolved into mumbled oaths, and the merchant let out an audible snort of derision.

“You know whoever did that is long gone, Ganner.”

“Idon’tknow that,” the guard growled. “And neither do you. Could be he’s waiting for his chance at His Highness now, couldn’t it?”

Vaniell had been so focused on the conversation, he was startled by an abrupt movement beside him, where Karreya crouched—eyes burning with fury. Suddenly, he realized that his finger still rested gently on her lips, and her dagger was now pointed directly at his heart.

The guard on the other side of the counter moved on, heavy footsteps fading away, along with the sounds of bickering. The usual cacophony of the market resumed, and yet, neither he nor Karreya moved.

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