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A hint of a smile returned to his lips. “Because you might have the paperwork, but you still need the Ranorsh husband to be allowed to lease a building.”
Thea froze. In Kentoria, women were allowed the same opportunities as men. The same education, the ability to own property, the right to own a business. That it could be different in Ranor had never crossed her mind. As she entertained the possibility, another, more immediate problem struck her.
She hadn't brought any money, nor did she have enough fabric with her to make anything to sell. How was she to lease a building? She licked her lips. “And... this Ranorsh husband will be paying that lease, yes?”
His brows climbed. “A bold question.”
“One you ought to answer.”
“You need not worry. I've promised to help you start over, and I know what that entails. But that also means we must go. I suggest you gather your things. Crossing the mountains will be a demanding hike.” He slid from the bed. His feet made no sound when they met the floor.
“I'll need supplies, in addition to a building. Fabrics, tools, furnishings.” In time, those things would let her earn enough to purchase property of her own. Or would they? The possibility a Ranorsh husband could be required for something so simple as a lease made her question that plan. She considered it as she gathered what few belongings she still had, then dismissed the problem as nonexistent. Widows existed everywhere. If nothing else, she'd be able to continue whatever lease he established on her own. She had no intention of marrying again.
Again?She chastised herself with a quiet snort. She wasn't married in the first place!
“Was that sound because you doubt my ability to provide for you, or indignation over the fact I must?” The amusement that colored Gil's tone struck her as inappropriate.
A hint of color rose in her cheeks to accompany her irritation. “You make it sound like this is all on me. You were the one who volunteered to, as you said,provide.”
Though she meant it to be scathing, he responded with a thoughtful nod. “Indeed. And I suppose since I volunteered, you'll just have to trust that I know how to manage it.”
Thea scowled as she donned her footwear. By the time they trekked across the mountain, she'd need new boots. Perhaps she'd make him feel responsible for those, too. Good boots, expensive ones. The finest Ranor had to offer. Maybe then she'd understand why he liked them.As if that's the best reason to want them,she griped silently. By the Light, couldn't she have a single thought anymore that didn't cycle back to the assassin in front of her?
Gil interrupted her thoughts with a hand offered to help her rise. She stared at his palm for a moment, then let her gaze sweep up to his face. He was ready to travel, bags slung over his shoulders and his cloak on, the illusion masking his features as effectively as ever. His smile, as handsome as the rest of him, was gone. In that moment, she decided she hated it. The cloak, the magic she'd made, the promise she would create more. She hated it all. The desire to meet his eyes—his real eyes, the soft cloud-gray that shifted with storms—surprised her, but it only made her resent the illusion more.
She shoved his hand aside and stood on her own.
If it bothered him, he didn't show it. Instead, he passed her a bag and let her take the sewing basket on her own.
Silence ruled their departure from the inn and then Heartroot, but as they passed the marker that declared they'd reached the trail carved into the mountain's side by hundreds of feet before theirs, warm sunshine seeped into her skin and softened the thorns of her frustration.
Once the city shrank behind them and they were accompanied by nothing but birdsong and whirring insects, Gil spoke. “We'll stick to the trade route through the mountains. There are bridges and tunnels that speed travel, and waypoints along them where we'll be required to check in. Keep your passport ready.”
“Can't we just circumvent them? Go around, through the wilds?” Thea made a rolling motion with her hand, mimicking the shape of the mountains.
“Why would we need to? We've done nothing wrong. We're just newlyweds, traveling back to the land of my birth so we might settle near to my family.” A hint of a smile twitched at his lips. “Besides, bypassing the waypoints doesn't mean one can gain entry to Ranor easily. There are rangers in the hills, patrolling.”
“Keeping an eye out for invaders?” Or maybe assassins? She couldn't imagine they were all so bold as he, walking through a kingdom's front gate as if he belonged.
“For traders trying to avoid paying duties, more likely. Kentorian goods are taxed at a premium to discourage import.”
Somehow, that didn't surprise her. “I can't say I blame them. I don't have the warmest feelings about taxes, myself.”
Gil snorted a laugh. “Yes, I would imagine. That's what got you into this mess. You not wanting to pay taxes.”
“Not wanting to payunfairtaxes,” she corrected. “I've always paid what I owed. I requested an audience because of an error regarding my father's estate.”
He tempered his amusement. “Ah, I see. My condolences for your loss, then.”
Thea waved a hand. “It's been years since he left us, may he rest in the Light. That's part of the problem. When my father passed, my mother settled all his affairs. There were no issues for years. It was only last winter when things went wrong. An incorrectly filed bill of lading, from my understanding. Heavy duties on something my father tried to import before his passing. He was a merchant, you see. But the taxes were unfair. That shipment never arrived. That ship sank in a hurricane years ago and all cargo was lost. I had documentation to prove it, back home. I can only assume someone misfiled an old paper they found while cleaning, instead of destroying it.”
“You realize, of course, that none of this matters now.” He scanned the road ahead as they walked, seemingly disinterested in her story.
She couldn't bring herself to be annoyed. “Well, yes. I just thought...” What? That he might offer sympathy? Now that the words were out of her mouth, she felt foolish. Recounting her woes to an assassin made them seem petty. But it had been her livelihood on the line. They'd threatened to seize her home, her shop, the one thing left to her after her family's financial empire collapsed.
“You thought you would feel heard if you shared what misfortune put you in my path,” he finished for her. He wasn't patronizing in the least. “I cannot say what might have happened, had you been seen and your story told. But were I on the throne, I would have waived your burden and let you free.”
Thea gave a quiet huff. “Thank you, but you weren't.” Nor was she sure how that was supposed to be a comfort. He could have been, she realized. He'd bypassed the guards and disposed of the king without raising any suspicion. Had she not walked in when she did, not alerted the guard with her screams, he likely would have escaped. Until now, she'd assumed he'dmeantto escape. What if he hadn't?
