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“Pardon me?” My tone is more forceful than the words imply.
The abuser feigns innocence, pasting on a genial smile as he nods. “Is there anything I can be help you?”
The young girl behind him is doing her best to wipe the blood from her nose before turning and forcing a painful smile.
“Yes, this lovely young lady had shown me some of the grooming equipment and even a few of the saddles for a hestrinn. At first, I told her no,” I pause as if I’m mulling it all over, “but I recently acquired one of my own. I want to be sure I have everything I need for him.”
I gesture to one of the saddles and the table full of decorations for an animal I know nothing about.
“How much for all of this?”
The man’s mouth nearly falls open, but his eyes gloss over with the lust of coin. “You are wantallof this?”
I nod, and he gives me an exorbitant amount that evenIknow isn’t worth it. But I agree anyway.
“Perhaps the young lady,” I pause, waiting for them to supply her name.
“Sarah Agnes,” she offers quietly.
“Perhaps you would visit me at the castle, Sarah? And help me with his care and grooming? I’d love to see what you could do with his mane with these.” I pick up a few of the beads and strips of fabric.
Tears brim in her eyes as she looks fearfully to the man who just beat her.
“I know that the king would consider it quite a favor if you would be so willing to help his new bride,” I add with a slow blink of my thick lashes.
“Of course.” The greasy man bows. “Anything for His Majesty.”
I crack my gloved knuckles and memorize each line of his oily face. I have no tolerance for those who use their size or position to break another person’s spirit.
“She can be come on the next day,” he adds, motioning for her to pack up the items.
Sarah blanches, and I speak up before I can help myself. I know that look. That fear.
“Actually, it would be a great favor to me if I could have her come sooner. You see, I could use someone trustworthy to oversee his transport back to the stables and his settling in. I would be willing to pay more for this, of course.”
I dump the remaining money from my purse on the table.
The man smiles, the expression all wrong on his repulsive face, before nodding and greedily counting the coins I’ve laid out for him.
An uneasy feeling forms in my stomach as I tell her which stable number she will find my hestrinn in.
I know it’s thoughtless to invite her to the castle right now. Sands know what Einar will say when I let another person intrude on his palace of secrets. I will deal with that later, though. I couldn’t just pass her by. I’ve been in her boots before, and what I wouldn’t have given to have someone pull me from that position.
The disquiet continues to grow, however, until I realize the feeling is coming from another source. Someone is watching me.
A predator.
I’ve hunted and been hunted enough to know the feeling.
The hair raises on the back of my neck as I look around, searching the crowd. Einar is nearby, but the feeling isn’t coming from him, nor does it abate when I see him.
It’s something else.
I continue to scan each person until I catch sight of the familiar face again. Dark brown eyes stare at me from his chiseled olive-toned face. His signature coal hair is tied back by his neck, and a matchstick rests between his lips.
He is right next to their tent.
Watching. Waiting.
