Our journey continued for another three days—up mountains and through valleys—and after the first day, our wolf shadows stopped following us. I almost thought Brigit had a begrudging respect for the way I'd handled the situation, but I could've just been seeing things.
Midmorning on the fourth day, we crested a hill and came into a vast valley with houses, buildings, roads, and a tall, gray castle rising toward the sky in the center of the city. We joined a main road, paved with milled stone, and I let myself gawk as we entered Linden. There were more carriages with furs like ours, some much finer than the ones Brigit had. I was actually warmer than I'd been in days, so I pulled my gloves off and opened my cloak to let the cooler, dry air in.
"Three days in the mountains, and you're already acting like a Niemenian," Brigit said as I stashed my gloves in my bag.
"I may melt when I return to Forcadel," I said with a hearty laugh. If I return…
We passed a large, golden arch built into the mountainside, with three heavily-armed guards standing in front of it.
"What's that?" I asked.
"The underground road from Aymar," Brigit said, a little longingly, then shook her head. "People who pay to use it are morons."
I'd been around her long enough to read between the lines. "If I figure out a way to Ariadna's court, I'll see what I can do to get you passage onto the royal road."
"Don't hold your breath," she muttered.
Brigit drove the carriage into the center of town, to a bustling market. While she bartered with the man for a table to sell her wares, I fed and watered the horse using the last of our grain and a nearby trough. Out the corner of my eye, I saw Brigit hand over twenty gold coins—all she'd brought. It truly was do or die for them.
I patted the horse on the nose and acted like I hadn't seen when she walked back over.
"I can take it from here," Brigit said gruffly.
I thought I should stay and help but decided against it. "Do you know where the nearest mess hall is?"
"Mess hall?" She blinked as if I was speaking another language.
"Er…dining hall?" Another blank stare. "A place to purchase food to eat?"
"Oh, you mean the ruoka? It's down the street. Take two lefts then one right. On Upskala." She plucked a fox fur off the top and handed it to me. "Take this."
"I can't," I said, pushing it back into her arms. "You need this."
"You saved me more trouble by taking care of those wolves." She reached into her pocket. "At least take this silver. I'll make twice that with the pelts you helped me bring through the forest. It's the least I can do."
"Thank you," I said, clutching it to my chest. "And thanks for everything."
She grunted and took a pile of furs toward an empty table in the center of the market.
The mess hall was a black wooden building with a tall pitched roof, like all the others. When I walked inside, I was greeted by long tables and the stench of beer. Burly, fair-skinned men and women looked up at me as I stood in the doorway. I peeled myself away from the door, keeping my head down until I was ready to be seen. At the front of the room, a large pot of stew bubbled, so I joined the queue at the back, plucking a wooden bowl from the set.
"Long way from home, sweetheart," breathed a gravelly voice behind me.
"But it's a short distance from my knife to your gut, so back off," I snapped, not bothering to turn around. I'd learned my lesson in Aymar. Instead, I paid the remainder of my money to the woman at the front.
My new friend hovered behind me as I ladled stew into a bowl, his putrid breath clouding around my head. I turned my attention to the rest of the room, searching somewhere I could safely hide in plain sight, while still hearing enough conversation to be worth my while.
When a hand brushed my ass, I put the bowl down and pulled my knife from my hip. I pressed the blade into whatever soft part of him it had reached.
"I warned you once. This is twice. If there's a third time, you will lose it."
His hand disappeared.
I sheathed the knife and picked up my tray, continuing to the spot I'd picked out before I'd been rudely interrupted. I felt the eyes of a few diners on me, but I didn't look at them. I settled into my seat and stared into my stew. It didn't look all that appetizing—grouse and soggy potatoes—but it was warm.
"Forcadel?" the man across from me grunted.
I nodded, grateful the citizens of Linden were chattier than those back in Aymar. "Just in."
"Don't surprise me. Too much going on down there. You hear about that queen?"
Again, I nodded. "Shame, that. Ruined the whole country."
"That's what they do," he said. "The royal folk play chess with our lives and we all suffer, eh?"
I tried not to wince. This was the second time I'd heard this refrain, and it was hard to keep denying it. But perhaps it would be a good segue into the conversation I needed. "Yeah. Especially that Luard, right?"
"Luard!" He barked a laugh. "He's the worst of the bunch. Think he's trying to bed every woman in the city."
"Yeah?" I said, pushing a potato from one side of the bowl to another. "They let the prince out at night?"
"Can't cage him!" the man said, louder than I'd wanted. But he was already halfway done with his tankard, and based on his ruddy cheeks, it wasn't his first.
I chewed on a particularly tough bit of meat. "So, I'm new in town. Looking for a thrill, I guess. Know anywhere the women are pretty?"
He grinned, exposing his four missing teeth. "You'll want to avoid the Hanger, then. Girls there aren't much to look at."
I nodded. "I like my girls high quality. Where does your prince go?"
"Oh, for that, you'll be wanting to visit the Frille," he said. "But make sure to bring your coin. They cater to the royal family, so they don't come cheap." He made a face. "Heh."
I tried not to snort at the double entendre. "I would've thought they'd frown on that. Royal purity and all that."
"Ariadna does, but nobody can control Prince Luard. He's like a wildcat. A man with too much money and nothing to do, if you get my drift."
"The worst kind of person," I said. "Thanks for the tip."
Night had fallen and so had the temperature. It was a struggle to keep my teeth from chattering, so I pulled my gloves back on and my hood over my head. I tried not to think about what might happen if I didn't find Luard tonight—or worse, he didn't take me back to that frigid-looking castle in the distance.
I found the bar and waited in the alley across the street. After my toes had gone numb, a black carriage with fine white horses rolled up to the place. There were too many footmen dressed in what I assumed were the Niemenian royal colors to be a normal visitor. When the doors opened, Katarine's brother Luard stepped out, a bright smile on his face.
The two siblings shared some features—sharp cheekbones, pale blue eyes, blond hair—but that was where the similarities stopped. Where my Kat was calculating, prim, and very private, Luard seemed content to spread himself all over the world. His laugh carried in the alley; clearly, he wasn't worried about people knowing he was visiting a dance hall.
As he made his way inside, I unfroze my brain to develop a new plan to get inside. Back in Forcadel, I'd frequented a place called Titta's. I'd done a favor for her some years back, and so she'd let me prowl in her club for my criminals. I didn't have time to garner favor with the owner of the place, so I'd have to sneak in and hope for the best.
Or else my toes might just fall off.
The door was unlocked, and the space inside was dark, heavily perfumed, and filled with nearly-naked bodies. I kept to the outside of the room to avoid attention, making a beeline to one of the wicker baskets overflowing with clothes and grabbing the first thing I could get my hands on. There was a line of curtained changing spaces along the other wall, so I quickly crossed the room and closed the curtains behind me.
The space was barely big enough to stand, but a hanging mirror on the wall gave me my first good look at myself in a while.
My black hair frizzed around my face, pieces of my plait falling out in big chunks. I also had some hay and grass sticking to me, probably from sleeping in Brigit's barn. I hadn't taken a bath in…too long.
Princess, I surely was not. But perhaps I could make myself a little more appealing.
I undressed and folded the dirty tunic neatly. Then, carefully, I unbound my breasts. They were annoyingly large for what I needed most days—running with them was a veritable pain in the back—but when I needed to use my body to get what I wanted, they were up to the task.
The small gold coin around my neck glinted in the dim light. Felix's Forcadelian seal—I'd almost forgotten I was wearing it. I thought about removing it and leaving it with the rest of my things, but it was too precious to part with.
Leaving it be, I slipped on the garment I'd grabbed. It was more robe than dress, opening to the navel. The wide sleeves fell down to my hands, and there were two slits that came up to my hips. There would be no place to hide my weapons, so I stashed them behind the mirror with my old clothes.
Next, my hair. I undid the plait and brushed my fingers through it as best I could. Then quickly braided it back and stuck the tail under the robe. To complete the outfit, I wrapped a scarf around my head, hiding my dark hair somewhat. I was still obviously Forcadelian, but if I moved quickly, no one would stop me.
With my head down, I walked toward the main room.
"Hey, wait!"
I froze, steeled myself, then turned around. "Yes?"
"You can't go out there without a tray. You know that," the old woman said, thrusting a serving tray into my hands. "How are you going to bus drinks without it?"
"Right," I said with a bashful smile. "Thanks. Still learning."
It took me about three seconds to realize why the woman considered me wait staff and not a dancer. They were completely nude. All of them, men and women, waltzing and undulating without one speck of clothing on.
"Uh…huh."
I tore my eyes away from a particularly well-endowed man dancing on the table as Luard's laugh echoed in the space. I followed the source of the sound to the center table, where Luard had three naked women sitting next to him. It was truly a feat that he appeared to be giving them equal attention, bouncing from one to the other with a catty smile.
"Here." An older woman leaned onto my shoulder and slipped her hand across my bare ass. "Take this, sweetie."
I winced as she squeezed my ass but couldn't argue with the silver coin she placed on the tray. "Thanks."
Her hand went to my scarf, pulling it off. Suddenly, her drunk eyes widened. "You're one of them—"
"Gotta go." I spun on my heel, trying my best to disappear into the crowd. I'd wasted too much time already, and if they were looking for a strange Forcadelian, I was the only one matching that description. Luard's table was just a few feet away, but the crowd was thick around him.
"Stop her!"
Behind me, the woman was now been flanked by three guards. It was now or never.
Dropping the tray, I roughly elbowed my way through, nearly losing my robe in the process. With every person I pushed, another three took their place, laughing and talking without a care in the world. I doubled my efforts, pushing aside the dancing and imbibing clients with desperation.
Someone stepped on my robe, and I felt it slipping away. I yanked myself free and fell, face-first, into Luard's table.
"What in the Mother's name!" Luard cried, standing up as drinks and glass flew everywhere.
"Hey." I grinned at him. "Remember me?"
Luard's gaze was on my bare ass. "I don't know, sweetie, you got…" As his eyes traveled up to my face, the color drained from his. "Holy Mother…"
"Prince Luard, we're so sorry we let this—"
"Stand down, boys," Luard said, his grin growing with every passing moment. "And someone get this princess some clothes!"