“Here.” He passed me a key. “Lock up.”
I locked the door, handed him the key, and then we went down the steps together.
“Hurry,” I said. “We need to get away from the castle as fast as possible.”
“We can hail a carriage,” Cyn suggested.
“No, the driver will be a witness.”
“So, we're walking across the city in this weather?”
“Yes. Just turn up your temperature, hot stuff.”
“I'm not worried about me.”
I glanced over at him. Snow was falling again, drifting into his hood to land on his chin and lips. It melted as soon as it touched his skin, making him glisten.
“I'll be fine. This way.”
I was wrong. Fifteen minutes later, I was shivering despite my thick wool cloak. And Cyn noticed.
“Come here.” He drew me under his fur-lined cloak.
Instantly, his heat enveloped me. I sighed and opened my cloak so I could press my body as close to his as possible. Cyn held one side of his cloak closed while I took the other and nestled in against his side. His free arm wrapped around my shoulders and mine went around his waist. I was struck by how perfectly we moved together, our bodies in harmony. Then his scent hit me—that delicious musky almond—and I breathed it in deeply.
“Better?” Cyn asked.
“Much,” I admitted. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
“That way.” I steered him with pressure on his waist. “Hamres Road.”
We moved as one across the street, then down Hamres. Hunched in together, with Cyn's head bent over mine, we blended in with the few pedestrians who braved the weather, all bent beneath the weight of winter. No one noticed us or found it odd that we were tucked under one cloak. No one gave a fuck about anything but their own warmth. I wouldn't have either if the King's safety wasn't my responsibility.
It took a while to get to the Forgotten. We had to traverse the wealthy neighborhoods around the palace, then the middle class, and finally, the poor district before we reached the Forgotten. My home was in the middle of that classless region of the city. We weren't rich, but we weren't exactly poor either. We were all of those things and everything in between. The Forgotten had its own social classes, including nobility, and I was among the upper ranks. Not a king, but more than a lord. Maybe a baron. They knew me in the Forgotten, and my eyes were enough to get me recognized. So I kept them lowered along with my hood. I didn't want the non-Raltven residents to see me and wonder who I had with me. I couldn't trust anyone outside of my clan.
Then someone tried to rob us.
The human was on the opposite end of the Forgotten spectrum from me. Lower than poor. Close to desperate. I might have taken pity on him if he hadn't pulled a knife on us.
The King went tense and started to lift his head, but I squeezed his waist and lifted mine instead. I met the man's stare. That's all. Just let him see my eyes. The human blanched.
“Sorry, Sir.” He backed away as he sheathed his knife. “I didn't know it was you.”
“You didn't see me,” I said.
“Yes, Sir! I mean, no, Sir, I didn't see nothin'!” The man ran off.
Cyn lifted a brow.
I winked at him. “You're in my city now.”
“Am I?”
“Yup. Sorry, I can't use your title here.”
“You only use it when you're making a point or being sassy.”
