Page 69 of The Assassin's Bride

“I don't.”

She faltered. “You don't?”

“It's not as if we'll be here long enough for them to figure that out,” he murmured.

Rilion stifled a sigh.

She lowered her voice. “Are we going into the shack, then?”

Gaius nodded. “We'll check in. Receive our assignment and instructions to meet whoever they think is their king. Once we do that, we should be free to wander and ask questions.”

Thea wasn't sure asking questions was wise. Remaining as unmemorable as possible would be to their advantage. But this was his quest, his goal, and she would let him take the lead.

“I have some concerns about all this,” Rilion said.

“As do I. The situation is not ideal, but we should explore it as fully as we are able. It may be revealed that this is the wrong place entirely, in which case we will move on and head for Passgate.” Gaius stopped outside the shack and looked for somewhere to tie the horses. There were no hitching posts or fences nearby.

“I can hold them,” Thea offered. “You still have our documents, right? If you can't check in for both of us, you start, and I'll wait here.”

“Very well.” He passed her the reins.

Rilion did the same. “What documents does she mean?”

“Our marriage license. And our passports. I hope you've prepared a name.”

The prince blanched. “A name?”

“When I travel, I am Gil.”

“If we're supposed to be brothers, then I'm Ril.”

Gaius snorted. “No one would believe that.”

“I guarantee there are parents out there who would absolutely name their children Gil and Ril. I am your younger brother, and I am grateful that for the moment, you look the part.” Rilion opened the door and motioned for Gaius to go first.

Gil, Thea told herself, setting his other name in mind. She'd only just gotten used to his real name. Now she'd have to watch herself to be sure she didn't slip. By the Light, what was she going to call him after they were through with all this?

The men slipped inside. Thea shuffled her feet and took a moment to stroke her horse's nose. Molasses gave her a friendly nudge, then searched her hand for treats.

“Nothing for you,” she said, spreading her hand to show it was empty. The other two horses remained still. Holding three was a terrible idea, she realized belatedly. If one tried to go anywhere, she'd lose all of them. For now, they seemed content to stand and rest. With luck, they'd be given a decent stable while the three of them were there.

Or maybe that would be no luck at all. How they planned to get back out of the fortress, nobody had discussed. If the horses were stabled somewhere out of the way, it would be an added layer of challenge to their escape. If theycouldescape, she thought grimly as a man with a halberd strolled by. Most of the apparent guards bore little to no armor, but there was a fierceness in their eyes as they roved the courtyard that told her they'd be no easy fight.

Maybe there wouldn't be a fight. Maybe this king wasn't the enemy Gil was after, no matter what Rilion's information said. She didn't even know what that information was.

“Hello,” she offered to another passerby. Most of the people who meandered past on their way to complete duty or business were more interested in the horses than in her, but a few returned her smile with small, nervous ones of their own.

Eventually, the door beside her cracked open and Rilion slipped out. “I'm finished,” he said. “He needs you in there for your part.”

Thea passed him the reins and shuffled toward the door.

The inside of the shack was dark and cool. She blinked hard as the shadowy shapes inside resolved into people. Gil leaned against a counter, while a woman scarcely tall enough to see over it inspected their passports.

“Here she is,” he said. There was a fondness in those words. The genuine quality of it warmed her heart.

The woman rose on tip-toe to look at her. “A seamstress, you said? Can you weave?”

Thea blinked. “With the right tools, yes.”

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