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In the time I finished putting up all the chairs, she had finished everything on my plate, returned it to the kitchen, and hauled out a bucket of steaming hot water. Within the hour, the mopping was done and not a single new customer had arrived.

Misha flounced through the kitchen doors, waving at us as she passed through the tables. “You best leave, Master Kent. Master Hobb left and said Rue is to lock up behind me.”

“But I don’t have a key,” Rue protested.

“Not my problem.” Misha waved over her head as she shoved her way outside and disappeared into the night, leaving the door slightly ajar behind her.

“I have a key,” I assured Rue. Rising, I crossed to the door and pulled it tight. The hinges were loose again and needed tightening. It had only been a week since I last tightened them. Suspecting that the doorjamb needed replacing, I bolted the door securely. Hobb wouldn’t like to hear that money needed to be spent, but it did. Maintaining a building cost money, time, and effort.

“I will douse the lights,” I assured Rue as she wrestled the mop and bucket of dirty water into the kitchen.

We worked silently together to close the tavern. When we were finally standing out behind the building, and I had latched and locked the back door, Rue turned away to start walking toward the road.

I occupied myself with reattaching the key to the ring sewn into my cloak.

She stopped, outlined by the gleam of moonlight, and spun back to face me. “May I ask a favor?”

“Of course. Questions are free.” Answers, on the other hand, frequently had strings attached. It was strange how many of my mother’s teachings about dealing with the fae were coming to mind this evening. Perhaps it was because I was acutely aware of the fact Rue possessed magic.

I studied her features in the waning moonlight. Spring was easing toward summer, but her thin cloak offered little protection from the cool night air. Her slender shoulders outlined in the silvery glow shook as she shivered.

“Walk with me?” She hunched her shoulders with a furtive glance toward the woodpile. This time, I suspected her movement had nothing to do with the cold. Her gaze strayed briefly toward the tree line before she fixed her attention on my face. How much of it she could see beneath the shadow of my hood, I didn’t know, but she unerringly found my gaze.

The fear in her features struck me hard. “Yes.”

She let out a breath, and she smiled. It was so slight and fleeting I almost missed it. But that infinitesimal lift to the corners of her mouth and the way it lit her eyes for the barest of moments arrested my attention. Unbidden, I found myself smiling in return.

Then, she swung around and burrowed deeper into her own cloak. “The foundling home isn’t far, only just past the mill.”

I let her set the pace, a surprisingly swift one considering her diminutive size. Falling into step next to her, I matched her speed.

“How did you come to be living at the foundling home?”

“By being a foundling. My mother left me on their doorstep when I was barely old enough to walk. I have no memory of her or my father. What I do know is in the letter she left with me.” Then, glancing up at me, she asked, “Perhaps you mean, why do I still live there, being far past the age of accountability?”

“I wondered both.” I found myself amused by her sudden profusion of words. Until now, she had been so taciturn.

“Mistress Prout raised me. She remembers the day I arrived and my childhood.” Rue swallowed. “The other foundlings did not accept me because they all knew the truth. Prout warned them about how I differed from them.” Tugging her cloak closer around herself, she hunched her shoulders more. “I am one of those.” She jutted her chin toward the forest. “Those with magic—the tricksters, the fae.” A rueful grimace pulled at her mouth. “I see things that others cannot. People grow disconcerted around me because I do strange things like staring at and responding to things they cannot see.”

“All of those around you?” I asked.

She shrugged her shoulder. “Some—the kind ones—don’t mind. It didn’t bother Janessa and Master Hobb, which is why they let me work at the tavern. I am grateful. Otherwise, Mistress Prout would have to kick me out for not being able to pay my way.”

“So, all of your wages and the food go toward your room and board?”

She nodded. “It supports the home and the current foundlings.”

“They feed you, too, correct?”

She gave me a narrowed side-eye. “Why are you so obsessed with food?”

“Not obsessed. Concerned.” I frowned. “Concerned you aren’t eating enough.”

She stopped walking. I paused and turned and faced her. With the moon at her back, I couldn’t see her expression clearly. She frowned up at me. “Why?”

“You said they didn’t feed you at the Hart and Hare, and all the food and the wages you earn go to the foundling home.” I frowned down at her in return. “Now you are saying they support the home and the current foundlings. What are you provided with?”

“A roof over my head.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “A safe place to sleep.” She swallowed. “And protection from being tossed out of town as a beggar.”