“Porridge and mead.” I dropped my voice low. The chance anyone this far from the capital recognized it was slim, but I would not risk it.
“And ye?” Her gaze slid to Ronan, narrowing as it lingered on the pale rings around his eyes.
No hiding the tan lines left by his goggles. Though common Radaanians wouldn’t know their meaning.
“The same.” He hummed, already dismissing her as his attention shifted to the boy.
She sniffed. “And will ye be needin’ a room for the night?”
My pulse quickened. She scented us like a hound, weighing the offer of a bath. Two men fresh from the road would welcome hot water.
A crack in our pretense.
“No. Just a meal, then we’ll be on our way.” I shifted in my seat, letting my shoulders sag with an ease I didn’t feel. “We’re only passing through. Headed for Lon, looking for work.”
Her face hardened, glare sharpening. “Of what sort?”
My thoughts scrambled to keep pace with her demand. “Anything that puts a roof over our heads and food in our bellies.”
“And did ye get spared the draft? Not fight with our good and righteous–”
“Sab!” The boy slammed his chair legs to the floor, twisting toward the cook as if ready to leap up and force her to swallow the words.
“This here ismyinn,” she snapped, eyes locked on me, “and I’ll not have slander against King Kallias under my roof.”
She didn’t see the young ones as a threat. I remained unknown. She measured me, gauging how I might react to her defiance, to her loyalty for Radaan’s rightful monarch.
If only she knew who stood before her.
“Better slander than treason,” the girl from the bar hissed. “Kind sirs, we uphold the laws ‘round these parts.” She moved fast, catching the cook’s arm and casting a glance toward the door.
She feared being overheard.
By whom?
“I’ll fetch their bowls,” the young bartender murmured. “You handle the mead.” Her tight smile failed to soften her eyes as she tugged the cook away.
“I mean it,” the innkeeper spat. “If ye’r looking to join the prince, keep movin’. I’ve no use for yer coin, and Wellmoor has no interest in housin’ folk like ye.”
She let herself be pulled toward the bar, her voice dropping to a hush too low for me to catch.
Ronan’s gaze snagged mine, his brows lifting with quiet approval.
Some loyalty remained. Whether she spoke for all of Wellmoor was uncertain, but the boldness of her words spoke of a city not yet broken.
He adjusted his pack, settling it between his boots, then leaned back and closed his eyes. The man knew exactly how dangerous he looked. I couldn’t afford that same luxury. Whether it was thefear of recognition or the absence of a dragon answering my call, I stayed alert.
Which meant I saw the boy slip out of the inn.
The girl noticed too, and all color leeched from her face, but she kept moving, hurrying to ladle porridge into bowls and bring them to our table.
“Careful. It’s hot.” She passed a bowl to me, then turned to my companion as the scent of food drew him upright. “You’d best eat quickly. Erik will be back with friends.”
“And that worries me because…?” Ronan let the question trail, his face open, a small, confident smirk curving his mouth.
“I don’t know where you’re from,” she said under her breath, “but in Wellmoor Tallon’s Black Guard enforce the law, and they’re not the friendly type.”
“Black Guard?” I asked, knowing Ronan wouldn’t bother to pry. There were no branches of service with that title under my rule.
