Page 7 of The Uncrowned Prince

The immobilization enchantment seemed not to have worn off yet, so he continued.

“Those louts were far too drunk to know the danger they were in, and while I am quite convinced you could have fended off the lot of them with a teaspoon, you might also have been forced to kill them in a very public and messy way. Strangely enough, His Majesty frowns on the mass murder of his subjects, and I would hate for you to find that out at the hands of a royal executioner.”

The cloaked figure finally moved, and she was exactly as fast and decisive as he’d feared. The movement ended with him pinned to the wall, an iron forearm against his throat and a curved dagger pricking his skin… considerably lower down.

“I thank you for explaining.” The woman’s voice could have frozen an erupting volcano. “I now feel much more at ease and can assure you thatthismurder will be neither messy nor public.”

The man in the black coat really couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face.

“But you don’t actuallywantto murder me,” he murmured. “Not really. After all, I just saved you from making a rather large mistake.”

“Your mistake, I fear, was a worse one.”

Her accent… he had not been mistaken.

“I apologize,” he said, and hoped his sincerity was evident. He had many flaws and had committed his share of sins, but he had never forced his attentions on a woman. “Had there been another way, or any time to explain, I would not have touched you without your permission.”

“Apologies mean nothing,” she returned icily. “Your trespass was unforgivable.”

The man raised one dark eyebrow. “You’d prefer to have been executed by the king’s guards?”

“They could not have taken me.” Her hood still covered her face, so he could not read her expression, but her voice remained untouched by doubt.

“A bit difficult to look for a missing person when you’re being hunted by the entire city.”

“They would not be able to find me.”

Her words should have sounded overconfident, but instead they gave him a bit of a chill. If he could not convince her of the danger she’d been in, it might well be too late for anything but attempting to ensure his own survival.

“Perhaps not,” he countered, “but you can’t ask questions if you’re in hiding, either.”

The arm pressed harder against his neck and he winced as it grew more difficult to breathe.

“Look, what happened tonight was decidedly not your fault, and those men likely deserved whatever justice you intended to mete out. But you were never going to get any answers that way.” He hoped he sounded calm and confident to her ears. “The fact is, you need help, and I’m willing to offer it.”

“I need no help. I am designed to work alone.”

And what in all of Abreia didthatmean?

“You clearly do need help, or you wouldn’t have waltzed into that tavern asking questions in such an obvious way. No one here would have told you the truth, even if that man was their worst enemy.”

“Why not?”

Aha. She sounded perplexed.

“Er, because you have a lot of knives, and you’re clearly not from Abreia.” Honesty seemed likely to serve him best.

“I was told many times that my accent is nearly perfect.”

The man shrugged, filing that information away to be puzzled over later. “Nearly. But you’re in a harbor city. Folks from all over land here, and they have a way of finding their own.”

She was silent for a moment, but the blade never wavered.

“You did not recognize the man in the portrait,” she said finally. “How can you help me?”

“I’m quite good at asking questions in a way thatdoesn’tmake anyone want to stab me.”

He sensed skepticism from beneath the cloak.

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