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So he did help me by tripping one of them. An apology hovers but I quash it, my wrist still smarting from when he knocked my dagger away.

He leans against the wall, his mouth curved. “How are you going to get out of the village? All the gates are sealed, everyone leaving will be inspected.”

Terror spills over, but I leash it, forcing myself to think. If the entrances are closed, I won’t stand a chance by myself with the soldiers looking for me. I must find another way out, one they won’t expect.

“Help me.” I sound bold, but inside I’m bracing for his refusal.

His eyes gleam as he pushes himself from the wall. “Why should I?”

“I’ll pay you.” I dig out the silver from my sash, offering the pieces to him.

“With my own money?”

“I can get more—from my step-aunt,” I lie. “Bring me home and she’ll reward you.”

“Your aunt who abandoned you to be captured while she fled?” He’s sharp, seeing too much. “My payment is going to be a lot more than six pieces of silver.”

He’s reeling me in, though I’m the one who cast the bait. I study him, weighing whether throwing myself into his hands would be preferable to the magistrate’s. At the memory of the magistrate’s oily gaze, how he leers at the girls when he struts through the market, my choice is made.

“You said you were searching for something,” I say slowly. “I can help you.” Today’s promise is tomorrow’s burden.

“I’m not sure how your predictions will benefit me further.” A hint of irony in his tone.

My hands curl. “I have other skills, those that helped me escape the soldiers. I know these mountains; I’ve lived here all my life. I can fight, I can—”

“Lie and steal?” He grins in a way that makes my hand itch to slap him. “I do need a pair of eyes around here. Someone with your skills might come in useful.”

“Then you’ll help me?”

“You’ll owe me a favor.” His smile widens, both charming and vicious. “To be called in when I wish. Within reason, and in good faith.”

The words fall smoothly like he’s struck this bargain before. I hesitate—but more shouts ring out in the distance, the soldiers closing in, their footsteps growing louder.

“I accept.” As I thrust my hand out, he shakes it. We stare at each other before breaking apart. “What’s your plan?” I ask.

He stalks to the doorway. “I have a carriage.”

“That’s it? What if they search it?”

He turns back to me, unclasping his cloak and drawing it around my shoulders. As he pulls up the hood, he looks into my face. “They won’t search my carriage. They wouldn’t dare.”

“Why? Are you the prince?” I ask rudely to mask my unease.

A beat of silence. “Be thankful I’m not.”

CHAPTER TWO

I follow him along a deserted path that leads to a black lacquered carriage drawn by a pair of horses. A symbol is carved at the back, crossed spears entwined with the thorny stalk of a rose. I climb in, lowering myself on the edge of the padded seat, as the young man sits across from me. It’s spacious within, yet feels cramped, like his presence makes it smaller.

The carriage rolls through the streets at a slow pace. All around are the muffled voices of villagers, the tread of their feet. Blood trickles down the young man’s neck, hovering on the collar of his robe. A waste if it stains the cloth. I lean forward to wipe it away—but the carriage slides into a rut, jolting me against him.

He grins. “You’re a lot more forward when we’re alone.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. It’s only because you’re bleeding.” I push myself away, shifting along the seat, as far from him as I can. Let his expensive clothes be ruined; he probably has a closet full of them.

As his hand brushes the cut, I smile. “Does it hurt?”

“Do you want it to?”