Page 38 of The Uncrowned Prince

“My skills require practice,” she said, not appearing particularly penitent. “And you are entirely too easy to surprise.”

“Because in Iria, people don’t usually fall from the sky,” he informed her dryly.

“‘Usually’ is the province of statesmen and fools.” Her contempt for both of those categories could not have been more clear if she’d written it across her forehead.

Sadly, Vaniell suspected he qualified on both counts. “Then I will most assuredly not tell you that the weather is un-usuallyfine today.”

“And I, in turn, will not stab you for being irritating.”

Vaniell blinked and watched her face, hoping for some hint that might indicate whether she’d been joking. He hoped so. It would be entirely delightful to discover that she appreciated his sense of humor.

“I suppose the right thing to say is that I am forever grateful for your forbearance.” He grinned unrepentantly. “And with those pleasantries out of the way, what do you say we visit the market? I would offer you my arm, but I suspect you would take me literally and cut it off.”

“I prefer your arms where they are, Abreian. And I also prefer not to linger in the street.” She appeared almost flustered after that, so Vaniell stifled his smile along with a ridiculous surge of satisfaction at the knowledge that she liked his arms.

Maybe that wasn’t exactly what she meant, but it was close enough.

* * *

They made their way to the market at a moderate pace, Vaniell trying not to grimace as he greeted those that he knew along the way. Karreya remained tucked just behind his left shoulder, still scanning the streets and rooftops for threats as she walked. Constantly on her guard, never able to truly relax around others.

It hit him then that this new world was to her as the Garimoran court had been for him. There was no opportunity to relax—not one single moment where it was safe to let her guard down. The only way to survive was to assume that everyone was the enemy.

What was she like among those she trusted? Did she have friendships at home? People she felt safe with? From her few cryptic statements, he suspected the answer was no, but it was as good a reason as any to attempt a conversation.

“What is it like, where you are from?” he asked, as casually as the question allowed. “I don’t know anyone who’s been there that was willing to talk about it.”

“As I said before”—Karreya’s eyes narrowed in disapproval—“I will not betray my homeland.”

“It isn’t exactly betrayal to describe what it’s like,” he countered. “Is it hot or cold? Are the people friendly or isolated? What do you do for fun, and what sort of food do you eat? Surely those do not endanger the security of your empire.”

“Hmmm.” She seemed to consider for a moment before answering. “I do not know how helpful I can be, as I have seen little of the Empire for myself. I have spent much of my life in training, so I have only the memories from before I was twelve years old.”

She’d been training as an assassin since she wastwelve? Only long practice allowed Vaniell to continue on as though this did not shock and horrify him.

“But the place where I lived as a child is hot and dry for much of the year. When it rains in the summer, the desert blooms, and in the winter, cold winds blow from the north. The people are…” She shot him a sideways glance. “Those that I knew were servants, so they did not trust or confide in me. My mother is dead and I have no siblings, so I would often read or ride or engage in other solitary pursuits.”

“Sounds lonely,” he offered, but she did not seem to carry any particular regrets.

“It was all that I knew, up until I began my training. And then I had no time to be lonely. We are not encouraged to develop friendships, but there are rivalries among us, and those we consider closer allies than others.”

A bleak existence, but if it was all she had ever known?

“Do you miss it?”

She gave a brief nod. “In part. I miss knowing what the days would hold. I miss understanding the rules of the world around me, and feeling as if I knew my place. But those…” Her gaze seemed to lose focus for the next few steps, as if her mind were far away. “Those days may never return. And I feel as if I have learned much and changed a great deal since my departure, so I can no longer say whether I miss my life there or not.”

It was an unexpectedly candid response. And Vaniell wanted to tell her that she could have that same feeling of belonging here, in time. Eventually, she would understand how this new world worked and find a place for herself. But she was likely to see that as encouraging her to betray her people and her home, and so he said nothing as they entered the bustle of the market for the second morning in a row.

There were more shoppers meandering about than there had been the previous day. Many of them wore plain, dark wrist-bands as a sign of mourning, and Vaniell reminded himself that he and Karreya ought to acquire something similar so they did not stand out. As they cut through the crowds towards Senaya’s stall, he also noted there were fewer guards in evidence. A sign that things were, perhaps, returning to normal, as the palace gave up hope of finding any further clues to whoever had assassinated the king.

Indeed, if it had been a foreign assassin, that person was likely long gone.

Or dead…

“Aha,” he murmured with satisfaction. The stall where they’d hidden from the guards was occupied today—the counter covered in baskets of dried herbs and jars of various powders and teas.

The woman seated behind the counter was dressed in worn but clean clothing, with a shawl over her shoulders and a scarf over her brown hair. She was hunched slightly as though with age, but her face bore only the faintest of lines and her eyes were still keen.

---