Straightening up, I stride ahead, marching forward as if I’m nothing but a simple soldier with a simple task. The glamoured features I’m borrowing are perfectly plain, so no one pays me much attention. I pick my way through the frozen terrain, carefully avoiding the open clefts and patches of ice and browned veins that run through the snow while I walk amongst the others.
I pry a cloak from someone’s open pack. I swipe a small dagger from another male’s belt while he stands in a circle, talking to other soldiers. I even manage to steal someone’s sword while the unsuspecting fellow is squatting behind a snow bank, straining out some sludge.
I wrinkle my nose as I pass. He had better bury that when he’s done.
Now armed, I feel much better. My fingers itch to grab more things, but unfortunately, I’m without my beloved foraging pouch, so this will have to do.
I feed my stolen sword through my belt loop, and palm the dagger up my sleeve, securing it against the stone shackle. Then I clasp the cloak around my neck and pull up the hood, because even with my adrenaline burning hot, this place is absolutely freezing.
When I turn toward the pavilion, I see someone walking out from the other building the king created—the one he’s still inside of.
I dart for the person, matching his trajectory, walking as quickly as I can without being too fast to gather attention.
If he was in there with the king, he can go in there again.
Or,Ican, with his face.
I sidestep around groups of soldiers and stuff the end of my cloak clumsily into my waistband.
But as I’m maneuvering over the uneven terrain, I realize too late that this fae isn’t wearing armor. My stomach drops when I recognize the shiny black hair that hangs down his back.
It’s one of the twins that met with the king back at the army camp. I can’t tell one from the other, so I have no idea which it is.
I falter, steps slowing as I consider what to do. I could stop and abandon this plan, but I might not get another chance, and I have no time to spare. Every second is already spent.
I let out a breath. “This is fine,” I mutter to myself. “Completely fine.” I was hoping this was a random Badge, because the twins seem more important, but this could still work.
Keeping to the plan, I match his stride and determine where we’re going to cross paths. When I’m only a handful of steps away from him, I put my head down, pretending to yank on the cloak like it’s caught in my trousers, and—
Bam.
The two of us crash together.
We collide hard enough that he tumbles to the ground, the both of us landing in a tangled heap. He cries out in surprise, shoving me while I scramble, trying to unhook my limbs from his, my movement a flurry of panic.
“Get off me!” he snarls when I nearly knock him face-first into the ground.
I wipe off flakes of snow stuck to him. “Sorry, sir!” I say frantically.
He shoves me away and gets to his feet while I spring to mine.
“Are you alright?” another soldier asks, a group of them walking up.
“Fine,” the fae grits out as he shoots me a furious look and dusts himself off. “Watch where you’re going!” he snaps at me.
My head bobs in an exaggerated nod. “Of course, sir. Sorry again, sir.”
With a huff, he turns and marches away, and the other soldiers who saw the whole thing eye me as I sheepishly walk in the other direction with my head down. I hear them snickering as I go, while I do my best to look embarrassed.
Inwardly, I’m preening.
That worked better than I’d planned. A swipe of hand here, a purposeful shift there, and through it all, I digested every part of him that I need to take on his features for my glamour.
I walk as I do it.
As soon as I reach the pillars of the pavilion where a big group of soldiers are gathered, I force a glamoured change, one feature at a time. One change per pillar I pass.
Eyes, face shape, skin, height, hair. Luckily, the fae is quite slim, so I can give myself more breathing room beneath this horrible stone band still caught around my back.
