The man gave a low whistle. “Radaan’s king? Asking for me cloak?”
Greaves cast a skeptical glance my way before dismounting. He extended a hand, his expression unreadable as he waited for the worn garment.
“You’ll be repaid,” I assured him, voice steady.
His posture shifted, eagerness replacing hesitation as Greaves approached the wagon. He looked ready to climb aboard, prepared to take the tattered cloak by force if needed.
“Oh, anythin’ for Yer Majesty!” he said, shrugging it off.
Greaves retrieved the brown cloth and tossed it to me. I wrapped it around my shoulders, thankful for its size. It draped over my mantle and concealed most of my fine attire.
“My thanks,” I called over my shoulder.
Nienna craved freedom, like a bird fluttering against the bars of its gilded cage. The palace, with its high walls and endless corridors, smothered her. If I had the freedom, I’d have taken her to the cities beyond. But that task belonged to Tallon—and he would avoid it at any cost.
My thoughts drifted back to the first time I caught her in Reem without a guard. Her maid had been with her then—the same one who’d been killed.
Was this rebellion born of grief?
No matter the cause, trying to dismiss the Thresher was a mistake. I meant to make her see that.
Greaves shuffled behind me, tugging a gray cloak over his armor. He bumped my shoulder, matching my pace through the crowd.
“What are you doing?” he hissed, his eyes darting beneath the edge of his hood.
I grunted, scanning the sea of faces for the familiar glint of black leather. “Finding Nienna.”
“She’d be easier to spot on horseback.”
“Running her down and tossing her across my saddle would be frowned upon.” I caught a glimpse of her Thresher, and we plunged back into the throng.
“I frown upon this,” he muttered, staying close. “Kal, of all the ridiculous things you’ve done for that woman, this tops them all.”
“The library’s outdone now, is it?” I chuckled, too amused.
Maybe this was why Nienna wanted to escape her guard, to lose herself in the city. Here, it was easy to pretend to be anyone. I wasn’t the king of Radaan, just a man chasing down the woman my foolish heart was set on.
Greaves muttered another curse, weaving through the crowd to stay with me. People barely noticed us, and I was thankful Radaan’s royalty wore no crowns. A mantle was far easier to conceal.
We caught up to the Thresher trailing Nienna as she barreled along.
Worry coiled up my spine when Greaves stepped in front of him. Was she fleeing from something?
The warrior spun, locking eyes with me. His gaze burned with the intensity of a storm. Nyryn’s chosen warriors could intimidate even an army of Velli. Yet, here she was, trying to brush him aside.
“Dismissed, soldier,” I grunted, brushing past. He hesitated, then fell behind. I spared no thoughts for what he might have been thinking.
Nienna dodged two children squabbling over an apple. A gust of wind tugged her hood free, and she yanked it into place. She didn’t glance back once.
A wild urge surged within me, a predator’s instinct to chase. She could navigate a room of nobles, but in the streets, she was oblivious. My heart thudded, steady, as I scouted the alleys ahead.
One—two—there, between the tavern and the potion shop. It was quiet.
“Second,” I muttered.
Greaves groaned, understanding what I had in mind.
Nienna stumbled, her eyes darting over her shoulder, and I ducked, peeking from beneath my hood. Her gaze slid right past me. A small, triumphant smile tugged at her lips. She relaxed, her shoulders dropping just enough to show she was pleased at the notion of losing the Thresher. Her quick pace relaxed.
