It will be fine.
I take a seat on the bench, carefully holding the paper. There are a few more guards hanging around outside. They must be on a break because they aren’t doing anything but lurking.
They stare at me. Start talking and laughing with each other. I do my best to avoid their eyes, but I feel exposed and vulnerable here by myself.
Surely they’ll behave themselves. The guards of the Central Cities are supposed to be the best trained in the entire world.
After a few minutes, one of the guards strolls over toward me. “Heading to the Capitol by yourself?”
“Yes,” I murmur, keeping my eyes down on the form I’m holding.
“That’s a big trip for a pretty thing like you to do on your own.”
“I’ll be okay. Thank you.” My cheeks burn. I really wish he’d go away. I don’t raise my eyes.
“Where do you live?”
Go away. Please just go away. “A village nearby.”
“Do you have yourself a man? He shouldn’t let you take such big trips by yourself.”
“I’ll be okay.” I try to maintain my subdued murmur, but my voice wobbles just slightly.
I’m not brave and confident like Annabelle. I’ve never done anything like this in my life. I don’t like it. I really don’t know what to do to get this man to leave me alone.
The guard’s friends have come over now, and all of them are hovering around me with grins that make me shudder.
“She won’t tell me if she has a man or not,” the first one says. “But I told her it isn’t safe on her own.”
“If you need company, we can probably help you out,” another one says.
I’m still staring down at the piece of paper I’m holding, but I’m washed with consecutive waves of cold and heat. This is terrible. Why won’t they back off? “I don’t need company but thank you for the offer.”
“You sure?” It’s the first one again. He’s moved even closer. “Pretty thing like you?—”
I stand up abruptly when it looks like he might try to touch me. I rush toward the front door of the outpost, hoping that once I’m in sight of the others inside, I won’t be so vulnerable.
Unfortunately, I move so quickly that one of my shoes slips right off my foot, and I’m so panicked that I just leave it there.
The guards burst out laughing. It’s mortifying. But I don’t return to pick up my shoe. I don’t dare.
“What’s going on here?” It’s a new voice. Loud. Stern. Vaguely familiar.
I whirl around to see Mason approaching, hauling a cart behind him. He’s dressed in normal clothes—work trousers and a long-sleeved shirt—and he obviously walked here the way I did.
He’s frowning as he looks from me to the chortling guards.
“We were just being friendly, and she ran away,” one of the guards explains. He has no reason to fear Mason. Mason is a villager and has no authority here.
But he’s a big man, and that must mean something even to these obnoxious guards.
He lets go of his cart and walks over to pick up my shoe. Ignoring the guards, he brings it over to me.
“Thank you,” I manage to say over a barely suppressed sob. It’s relief as much as anything else. Maybe I was never genuinely in danger, but it feels like I’ve been saved anyway.
“Did they do something to you?” Mason asks in a low, gruff voice. “Did they hurt you?”
“No. I mean, they wouldn’t leave me alone, but they didn’t touch me. I think I overreacted.”
