Ravenna and the guard turned to the sight of Amina walking toward them, carrying a small woven basket.
“There’s no problem.” The guard narrowed his gaze. “You’ve already come by once before. What more do you have there?”
Amina smiled brightly. “Things I’ve forgotten to deliver, courtesy of the inn and my family.”
The guard glanced into the basket, frowning. “She doesn’t—”
“I’ll just leave them on the table,” Amina said, her tone light and airy, like the snap of cotton fluttering on a clothesline. She ventured into the guest room, her long skirt swishing around her ankles. “Come and see what I’ve brought you.”
Mystified, Ravenna followed her to the rounded table. Amina pulled out a variety of items from the basket: a small vial of scented oil, a wooden comb, a bar of soap, some ribbon, and a linen sachet filled with dried herbs.
“Quickly,” Amina murmured. “Are you all right? Do you need help?” Louder she said, “This is my favorite soap. It’s scented with myrrh.” She extended the soap to Ravenna. “Smell it.”
Ravenna took it, gave a delicate sniff. “Lovely,” she said, her mindwhirring. She dropped her voice. “Please don’t trouble yourself. I’m fine.”
Amina shot her a disbelieving look, but Ravenna held her tongue, her expression carefully neutral in response. She would not risk the family.
“If you are ever in need of help, the inn is always open to you,” Amina said after a moment of tense silence. “May God keep you safe.”
Tears burned in Ravenna’s eyes at the kindness extended to a stranger. She managed a nod, and then Amina moved to the door, trilled something to the guard in a breezy tone, and went her way.
With effort, Ravenna composed herself and went to the door, intending to lock herself in.
“You’ll have no more visitors,” he barked. The guard removed his hand and Ravenna shut the door in his face. Then she turned away, conscious of the pair of them on the other side of the door, listening for anything untoward. Ravenna prowled her bedroom in frustration. Her gaze landed on the bed, where a basket sat at the end where there hadn’t been one before. She drew toward it and lifted the lid to find a pile of neatly folded clothes and a small note.
Dear Signorina,
My father explained you had brought nothing with you, and so I’ve provided a dressing gown to use during your stay with us. I hope you find it comfortable. Should you get cold through the night, there are also additional sheets. I hope they are useful.
I pray that God will protect you, always.
Amina
Ravenna tossed the note on the bed, frowning slightly as she rummaged through the basket. She lifted the dressing gown—soft and smelling faintly of amber—and found not one, not two, butsixadditional sheets. The weather still turned cold at night, but even so, it seemed excessive. She picked up the note again, read it slowly twice more.
Realization dawned.
Amina had done her another kindness.
Ravennadidfind the sheets useful, and she knew exactly what to do with them.
She didn’t know how long she pretended to sleep underneath the thick blanket. At some point, the door had been opened, and a sliver of light stole into her room. Ravenna kept her breathing slow and even. Soft murmurings reached her ears, indiscernible words. Her pulse roared in her ears, but she held still.
The murmuring continued.
It was the oddest sensation to remain quiet and motionless when her body wanted to throw back the covers and run from whoever stood at the door. Questions ran through her mind—would they leave the door open, would they come closer, would they stand over her with their weapons and watch her sleep?
She almost couldn’t bear it.
The minutes ticked by, and then finally, the noise quieted so fully the only thing Ravenna could hear was the sound of her own breathing. Still, she did not move. Ravenna counted to one hundred, and then again, until she had done it twenty times. Then she shifted in the bed, and waited. Quiet snores reached her ears. She shifted again, closer to the edge, and slowly turned her head toward the door.
They’d left the door cracked open.
Ravenna bit back a curse, but she drew closer to the opposite side of the bed. Carefully, she reached down underneath the bed where she’d hidden the sheets, already tied up into knots to form a long rope. Her gaze flicked to the window; the shutters were left open. Cold air whistled through the trees outside and sounds of barking dogs and hooting owls filled the midnight hour. She crawled out of the bed, near silent, and rearranged the two pillows so they looked like a sleeping form underneath the cover. Then she tied the end of the bedding to one of the legs of the sturdy wooden bed. She crawledto the window, dragging the rope behind her, a long dragon tail, and threw the other end outside.
She pulled off her nightgown, revealing the dress she’d worn underneath during the day. Hooking a leg over the sill, she glanced behind her at the cracked door. Any moment, one of the guards would wake, they’d charge at her, drag her back inside by her hair. But their snores filled the room and to her ears they sounded like tolling church bells, offering sanctuary. The rope was soft underneath her palms, but it held her weight as she crept down the side of the inn, her boots scraping softly against the stone.
The gorse beneath her was just as prickly as it looked, but she made it out with minimal scratches. Moonlight dappled the bracken lining the path. The thicket of trees overhead rustled in the cold breeze, and she shivered. Ravenna stayed close to the inn’s walls, silently making her way toward the stables. The next part would be difficult. She wasn’t a strong rider to begin with, but she knew enough to at least manage the way home. It scared her to think of traveling alone at night, but she could only pray for a swift, uneventful journey.
