Page 34 of A Wayward Movement

They’d emerged from the market by now, and as she cast her eyes around for a change in topic, Alina saw a familiar figure moving down the main road.

“You should talk to her,” she said, inclining her head toward the middle-aged woman. “Her name is Ellen, and she usually knows more than anyone about what’s going on in town.”

Xavier shifted his bright gaze from her to the other woman, nodding discreetly to the captain, who was looking back at him for direction. Captain Mitchell moved forward to intercept the woman.

Alina trailed behind, feeling useless and unnecessary. Remember how much they’re paying you for this, she told herself firmly.

Ellen stopped as directed, a wary look in her eyes as Captain Mitchell explained their purpose. Her eyes passed over the group, a hint of surprise entering her gaze as it lingered for a moment on Alina. Alina sent her a faint smile.

“I’m glad the crown’s finally taking notice,” Ellen said gruffly, when the captain was finished speaking. “But I don’t know anything more’n what you’ve just said.”

Alina studied the wooden crate the older woman was carrying. “You’ve just been to the refinement site, right? Don’t you take eggs there every couple of days?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Ellen said.

“How is everything there?” Alina pressed.

Ellen shrugged. “Fine. Just as normal.” She looked at Captain Mitchell. “Is that all?”

“Thank you, ma’am,” the captain said, dismissing her.

Alina frowned after the older woman, confused. When she looked up, she found Captain Mitchell’s eyes on her, silent interrogation in his expression.

“My apologies, Captain.” Alina ducked her head respectfully, coloring a little. “I shouldn’t have jumped in unprompted.”

“No one is chastising you, miss,” the captain said mildly. “I’m just wondering why you look unsatisfied.”

“Oh. It’s just…” Alina’s eyes traveled again to where Ellen had now disappeared from view. “I’m very surprised she didn’t have anything to say. She’s…well, the town busybody, to put it bluntly. She’s usually full of gossip, and even if she has no new rumors, she’ll still start speaking first and think of something along the way.”

“Hm.” The captain’s eyes drifted in the direction Ellen had gone. “That’s good to know. Blair was at the refinement site today. I’ll ask him if he encountered her there, and tell him to keep an eye on her if she goes again.” He looked to the prince for approval, and Xavier nodded.

“Thanks, Alina,” the prince said. “Don’t be shy to jump in. That’s exactly the kind of help we need.”

Alina ducked her head a second time, finding nothing to say in response. She knew she wasn’t in danger from the prince. She was too old and too smart to make that mistake now. But she did wish he’d stop indulging in those moments of unnerving sincerity. It wasn’t good for her peace of mind.

Chapter

Eight

The following day, Alina traveled with the prince’s group into the nearby town of Alton. It was a journey of some hours, so they left before the sun. Alina wasn’t fond of early mornings, but this time she welcomed it. Leaving before the twins rose was an excellent way to get out of answering any shrewd questions regarding her new role. She’d barely seen Benji in particular since she’d agreed to help the investigative team, and when they had crossed paths, she’d seen in his mutinous expression he had some things he’d like to say to her at the first private opportunity.

An opportunity she wasn’t eager to give him.

The captain had offered to secure her a carriage if she preferred, but Alina was glad to ride with the rest of the group. She’d loved riding when she was younger, but hadn’t had access to her own horse since her parents had died.

She met the group outside the inn in the chill of predawn, stifling a yawn as she made her greetings to the sedate roan mare she’d been assigned.

She heard a confident tread behind her, but didn’t turn, keeping her focus determinedly on the horse. Her mood would rise with the sun, but for the moment, she was too tired to be social.

“Good morning, Alina.” It was the prince’s voice.

“Morning,” she mumbled, still not turning.

“Would you like help mounting your horse?” He was annoyingly cheerful for the hour.

Alina glanced behind her at last. Xavier was dressed in a black jacket with two lines of silver buttons running down his chest, and light metal bracers on his arms. His hair was mussed, as if he was also feeling the effects of the early morning, but it just made him look more dashing, irritatingly.

“I can manage,” she said, in begrudging answer to his question.