His paces were quick, and Sonya jogged a little to catch up with him. In a few turns, they ended up back in the square. Sonya caught her breath, holding a hand over her heart.
‘Alright?’ he asked. Releasing her hand, he stood in front of her,and she looked up at him, taking him in. He regarded her with dark brown eyes beneath long eyelashes.
The rain had slowed now. His black hair was wet, curling around his ears and the nape of his neck. He had thick brows, a strong nose, and high cheekbones. He was wearing simple clothes—dark trousers, white blouse, maroon waistcoat—and she deduced he must have been from the Outskirts. He was very tall, and as he stepped closer, she tilted her head back to look up at him.
‘Are you hurt?’ he asked, voice gentle. She shook her head, still unable to speak. He looked her over before meeting her eyes again. ‘You’re from the castle.’ It wasn’t a question.
How did he know?
Fear bolted through her, making her heart rate quicken. Sonya thought back to the flash of recognition she had seen on his face before fainting. She braced to run, but something on his face softened.
‘Your uniform,’ he said, clearing his throat.
Oh. He hadn’t recognizedher, but her clothes. He thought she worked at the castle.
‘How could you tell?’ she asked.
‘From the fabric and the cut,’ he replied. ‘My mother used to be a tailor—a stitch-witch. She made uniforms for castle staff.’
‘Oh.’ The trepidation left her, and she shivered. She had had a terrible shock, but at least she hadn’t been found out.
Suddenly, Sonya recalled the coin purse she’d unwittingly left behind with the unconscious men. She ought to go back, but she was too afraid. What if they were awake? The dagger was back there, as well, and while it was useless, it could have been worth a decent amount. She nibbled on her lower lip. All of her money, gone.
‘I’m Azam,’ the boy said. ‘Azam Mirza.’
‘Sonya,’ she replied, without thinking. She stilled, realizing too late that she should have thought of an alias.
Luckily, Azam didn’t react. She was glad; she wanted to keep her name if she couldn’t keep anything else. Besides, it was common enough. She had been named after her grandmother.
‘Come on,’ Azam said, giving her a small smile. ‘This isn’t the best part of town. Lots of travelers here who don’t know the ways. It’s much safer deeper into the Outskirts. We should get somewhere dry.’
Sonya decided to go with him. Azam had saved her, and his mother had worked for the castle. The castle only ever hired the very best people. He seemed honorable. Kind.
And she was so tired.
She followed as he led her deeper into the Outskirts, away from the bustle and toward another, smaller square. They walked into another tavern, though this one was populated with company that was decidedly less rowdy than the other tavern.
Azam led her to an empty table, gesturing for her to sit, and she did. A few moments later he returned with a mug of tea. Wrapping her hands around the mug, she warmed her palms, then took a sip. It was sweet and milky.
‘I wasn’t sure how you took your tea,’ he said, ‘but I added sugar. It’ll make you feel better.’
He had brought a plate of biscuits as well, and he took one before sitting down across from her. Taking a bite, he looked at her closely, as if there was something he wanted to say. She swallowed, looking up at him, and he must have thought better of it, for he simply gave her a small smile.
Sonya felt much better now. ‘I’d like to thank you for saving me,’ she said. ‘And for bringing me here. I wish I could compensate you for your service, but—’
‘Please,’ he said, holding up a hand. ‘It was nothing. Truly. I am just glad you are safe.’
His glance strayed to one of the windows, to the dark outside. He looked back at her. His voice was hesitant when he spoke, as if he wasn’t sure how to elucidate what he was thinking. ‘Are you…lost?’
She nodded. ‘I’m new here,’ she said. ‘I used to live in Castletown.’ That wasn’t a lie, not entirely.
‘Oh.’ He paused. ‘Did you have somewhere in the Outskirts you were wishing to go?’ he asked. ‘Somebody you were looking for?’
She shook her head. ‘I—I’m alone,’ she said and, horribly, tears welled in her eyes. She took in a shaky breath, trying to calm herself, but it only made things worse. Her vision blurred.
Azam’s face melted. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said, his voice soothing. He reached across the table, putting his hand over hers. ‘You’ll be alright. Really. You will.’ He squeezed, and she nodded, blinking the tears away.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, looking down at their hands.
