He moved fast, catching me off guard as I backed into the wall, my blade forgotten. The notion of needing it against Sainte hadn’t crossed my mind. He cornered me, hands by my head, his large frame blocking my path. His proximity allowed me to notice a few silver hairs near his temple. Just a few, but enough to challenge me to surpass him.
“We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. You choose.” His High Wynter was crisp and cold, like everything from the North.
My breath quickened, and my ears perked to the sounds above. I reached out, fingers tracing the contours of his chest before cupping his face. His eyes transformed from anger and irritation to that familiar scowl of confusion and perplexity, an expression I dreamt of often.
I held his glare, my own narrowed with repulsion. “I don’t choose you.”
My knee snapped up, landing a blow between his legs. He doubled over with a wheezing grunt. Ethyan took that moment to loose an arrow, straight throughthe arm boxing me in. Sainte growled, dropping to one knee as a rope fell onto my shoulder. I spun and climbed it with the agility of a jungle monkey, hauling the rope’s tail along with me. Sainte was as stubborn as I remembered. He would’ve attempted to follow.
Lyana gathered the rope from me when I reached the top.
“Go!” I shouted, breaking into a sprint.
Ethyan kept pace beside us, his bow slung over his shoulder. “I thought he was a good guy?!” he yelled over the cacophony of birds and sailors’ calls as we neared the bustling docks.
“Good guy?!” Lyana hissed, arms pumping at her sides. “Crushing El’s heart, leaving her in the dirt?! Good guy?!”
I ignored them as we rushed into the port, edging around shipmen and, in all probability, pirates as well. We slipped into an alley under the cover of men loading barrels into a wagon.
“He’s—normally–” I gasped for air, propped against the wall as my limbs trembled from exertion.
“Gods and goddesses!” Lyana stood before me, her stance defiant and eyes ignited with determination. “I will kill him. I will cut past those abs of steel and rip out his heart,” she snarled as she tugged the scraps of my shirt closed.
With a breathless laugh, I straightened to tie the scraps with the rope—it was gone.
“Curse it. I lost my rope.” I fumbled about my body for something else to use.
“Here.” Ethyan removed his belt and offered it to me. It was a beat up strip of leather barely hanging together, but belts were hard to come by.
I gave a remorseful smile in thanks, then gestured to the tear. “He didn’t do this. I think it was a guard as I ran past.”
His sister sighed, her anger hardly diminished. “Hiding in Hag Lane was a good bet, though.” She collapsed beside me and let her head fall back to peer into the cloudless sky.
We took a moment to catch our breaths, then made our way out. Neither sailors nor guards would take kindly to street rats hanging about the port. Too many high-end goods came in and out for it to go unguarded.
“What does he want?” Ethyan murmured as we kept our heads down, walking aimlessly.
Lyana snorted with a roll of her eyes. “To kiss and make up?”
I limped along feeling a pebble work its way in through a hole in my boot. “He’s never come early before. And he’s always been alone.”
“Those were Wynterian soldiers?” she asked.
“I’m not sure.”
Most of my memories were a blurred haze at this point. I was only six when he rescued me. I shivered at the reminder and shoved it aside.
“They seemed to be with him,” she offered.
“But not hired help,” her brother mused. “Their armor was too fine.”
“Why would he need backup for a visit? Oh, don’t tell me he switched sides!”
“Traitor,” he muttered.
“I don’t think so,” I said. “He wouldn’t stoop that low.”
“Then why the show of force?” she asked. “If he came to apologize, why would he need others?”
