Meredith was already waiting outside. Dusk was falling, and Reed feared they would have to stop for the night. The deep forest offered little confidence, and getting lost there was as easy as breathing.

  "Ready?" Reed asked, approaching his horse.

  Meredith nodded and silently vaulted into her saddle. Watching her, he remembered their long trek and how she had slept against his chest as they moved from city to city. A sharp pang of nostalgia pricked him. Meredith was different now. She didn't need Reed to feel safe. The thought brought a bitter smile to his lips, and he was glad he wasn’t facing her so she wouldn't see his weakness.

  Night found them at the edge of the woods. While Reed tended the fire, Meredith prepared their bedrolls. Both were silent. He wanted to ask why she had come with him. Did she really think he needed her help or just wanted him to drag her with him to Eisen. Or was there another reason for her presence?

  What if Maró had asked her to spy on him? The thought reeked of betrayal. That was exactly how Reed would see it. He didn't want to think about it, but the idea clawed at his mind, painting a grim picture where Meredith was actually much further from him than he had believed.

  "Hector?" Her voice came from right behind him. Reed flinched in surprise, exhaled, and then gave a weak smile. Meredith returned the smile and continued awkwardly. "Your wounds... how long has it been since you cleaned them?"

  "Uh... I haven't cleaned them at all."

  Meredith’s eyes widened in horror. "Why?"

  "I don't have eyes in the back of my head," Reed grumbled, shrinking under her gaze.

  "Will you let me?" Her nimble, thin fingers touched the ties at his neck. "I’ll have a look."

  Reed sighed and removed her hands from his neck. He pulled a strap and soon stripped off the top of his armor. Meredith’s hands were cold when she touched his feverish back, and a shiver ran through his body.

  "It looks bad," she said quietly, leaning in.

  "And what am I supposed to do?"

  "I’ll do everything. Sit." She soon returned and ordered him to sit with his back to the fire so she could see better. "Why didn't you say anything?"

  Reed only shrugged. His back truly hurt. He felt the heat at the site of the wounds and the rising swelling.

  "Is it that bad?"

  "It would have been worse in a couple of days."

  He closed his eyes, enjoying the light touch of her hands. He flinched a few times when pain pierced his muscles, occasionally trying to pull away. Meredith tossed aside the bloodied rags and muttered something quietly in disapproval.

  "It needs bandaging." She stood up, and Reed could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

  "Don't," he barely managed to say, imagining her having to stand too close to him while he tried not to think about her touching his bare body. Reed harbored no illusions and was not naive, but he was still a man. Meredith was one of the few women who had seen his weakness and yet didn't flinch. The realization that Meredith was no longer a child had hit him the moment he saw her in Maró’s lair. Other thoughts followed when she had to touch his back and he had to force himself to sit still. What was happening brought awkwardness, even shame, but a shame of a different sort than what Reed was used to feeling.

  "And why is that?"

  "Because I don't want to!" he protested weakly.

  "Stop being difficult!" Meredith raised her voice and slapped his palm as he tried to pull his shirt back on.

  "And since when did you become so bossy?"

  "Since very recently," she countered.

  "If you keep this up, I’ll slap you."

  "And you wouldn't even feel sorry for me?"

  "It would be a necessary evil."

  "Even at the cost of my unbearable suffering?" Reed was openly mocking her, stalling for time.

  "You’ll suffer even more if you keep running your mouth!" She snatched the shirt from his hands and tossed it aside. "Shut up, if you please."

  "I won't," Reed gave a short, nervous laugh.

  Meredith, barely suppressing a smile, stepped closer. "Why didn't I notice before how insufferable you are?"

  "I hid it well." Reed winced as Meredith applied a cloth with foul-smelling ointment to the wounds on his back. She wrapped a length of cloth around his abdomen, and Reed felt her breath on his bare skin. Before another sting of awkwardness could hit him, he blurted out, "Or maybe you just didn't want to notice back then."

  "But now I get to see you in all your glory, right?"

  "And don’t like that?"

  "I didn’t say that," she muttered, facing him. "It suits you."

  "How tragic. I was hoping for the opposite."

  "Idiot," Meredith said, playfully slapping his shoulder as she fastened the bandage and stepped back. "You can get dressed now."

  "Thanks, Mommy," Reed snarled playfully. Catching Meredith’s fierce, withering glare, he grinned. Soon, she was smiling too.

  "What are you planning?" Meredith asked, handing Reed some jerky from her supplies.

  The question made him tense as a grim suspicion clawed at him, the same one that had been haunting him before. If Maró had truly asked Meredith to watch him, Reed would have to reconsider everything. If even Meredith didn't see him as one of her own and was spying for Maró, he could leave with a clean conscience and continue ignoring his problems and old wounds. He wanted revenge, but not at the cost of being a nobody even to Meredith. After all, she was one of the primary reasons he had agreed to this.

  "Why do you ask?" Reed replied sullenly.

  "I’m just curious," she shrugged awkwardly, studying his face. Her black eyes traced his cheekbones, dropped to his lips, and then moved back up. Their eyes met. Meredith was shy while Reed looked suspicious.

  With a grunt, Reed left her question unanswered, staring at the fire. Meredith remained silent too. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her tugging at the edge of her sleeve.

  "Tell me about the places you’ve been," she asked softly, her gaze fixed on the flames. Her voice was weak and faltering as if she didn't know how to approach him. The conversation had taken on an unpleasant, strained tone.

  "People are the same everywhere," Reed smiled, shrugging his shoulders.

  "You mentioned you were in Antari. What’s it like?"

  "You wouldn't like it. Everything reeks of fish, and it’s full of mercenaries, taverns, and whores." Reed stirred the logs, making the fire flare up more cheerfully and casting flickering shadows on Meredith’s face. He couldn't help but admire her for a moment but he quickly looked away. "It’s easier to live there though. For the most part, my ears weren't an issue. I even had a decent job serving on a ship. Overall, Antari is like... it lures you into wasting your coin. Like a street vendor who knows your every weakness."

  "Why did you leave, then?"

  "I didn't want to stay. My term of service ended, and I had no desire to give my life to the sea. Now, in Saisen, they pay people like me well, but the risks are higher," Reed said. "I had to bolt from there in a hurry."

  "Like from Bradenmain?" Meredith asked with a smile.

  "Almost," Reed chuckled. "But I truly outdid myself in Parey. Compared to that, Bradenmain was easy."

  "That sounds like you," Meredith looked at him softly, without judgment, as if they were discussing childish pranks. "What happened in Parey?"

  "Meh, it was just…" Reed mumbled, running his fingers through his hair and wincing awkwardly. "It’s just that the place isn't for people like me. It’s mostly peasants with a few major landowners. Any scheme becomes obvious right away. I took on too much work and started drawing attention. I intimidated the wrong person, stole something and ended up wanted. I got out of there without a horse or a coin."

  Meredith shook her head and smiled. Reed, however, couldn’t tell her everything. He was afraid to. If he told her the truth, who knew if she would still be smiling?

  "And how did you get involved with Maró?"

  "I left the boarding school and tried to look for work," she replied, her expression darkening. "I found a place in some rich prick’s house. I was supposed to teach his daughter to play the kithara."

  "You play the kithara?" Reed interrupted, his eyes widening.

  "Madame taught everyone," Meredith shrugged. "She believed an educated woman should master at least one instrument to show her intellect without opening her mouth." Meredith winced strangely, looking at her fingers. "If someone missed a beat or forgot the notes, Madame would strike their back with a cane. Pain humbles pride and adds patience. I didn't understand that at first."

  Reed cast a concerned look at Meredith. She was completely composed as if she weren't talking about herself.

  "I didn't know," he said quietly, turning away. Pangs of guilt stabbed at his mind again, and this time they were harder to shake off.

  "How could you have known? Madame doesn't share her special methods with those who leave children in her house," Meredith replied coldly. Reed felt her gaze on him but he couldn’t look up. "I taught the girl differently but that nobleman had certain... eccentricities. I tried not to pay attention and then snapped. He couldn't prove my guilt. By then I already knew how to do everything without using my hands. I was taken into custody, suspected to be a mage but soon they released me. The nobleman's daughter said she saw me standing in the middle of the room, holding her with one hand and the kithara with the other. I couldn't have possibly done anything."

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  Meredith hummed, falling silent. Reed stole a quick glance at her. On her seemingly indifferent face, a shadow of pride appeared.

  "I didn't return to the nobleman," she continued, adjusting the folds of her dress. "Maró was in the city when rumors about me began to spread. He found me and offered sanctuary, work and safety. I saw no reason to decline. Then... then he decided to move against the king. I knew why and I realized that I could no longer walk away."

  "Or you simply don't want to," Reed remarked. Meeting Meredith's fierce gaze, he explained, "I'm no fool, Dita. You were left alone and Maró offered not just protection and shelter but vengeance as well. And you don't want to lose the chance."

  "Do you judge me?" she asked, tilting her chin up.

  "Nope." A crooked smile appeared on his face. "I returned partly for the same reason."

  "Partly?"

  "Yes."

  Reed gave her a sly wink as he stood. His numb legs prickled, refusing to obey, and sleep pulled at him mercilessly.

  "Tomorrow we will be in Eisen," Reed said, looking at Meredith’s back, which was straight as a bowstring.

  She nodded without turning around. Reed settled closer to the fire, resting his head on his arm, and watched the light flicker across Meredith’s hair, pulled into a tight bun. She sat, staring into the grim darkness of the forest, and remained silent. She didn't look back at Reed, so he allowed himself to watch her without fearing they would lock eyes. Before falling asleep, Reed caught himself wishing that his suspicions about Meredith’s motives for this trip would turn out to be false.

  ***

  The first day in Eisen was hectic, full of errands and frustration. Reed visited several places but with no luck. He hadn't expected to learn everything about the advisor in a single day, but Meredith’s presence scattered his thoughts and unraveled his self-control, leaving only awkwardness and embarrassment. He tried to keep his distance, for when they were near, he often didn't know what to say. Meredith treated his awkwardness with understanding and tried not to push. When Reed returned at dawn, he found Meredith still awake. For a moment, he thought a glimmer of relief crossed her face before it quickly vanished behind her usual mask.

  On the second day, Reed had the same plans, but Meredith didn't let him run away. They were sitting in an old room at an inn. It was stifling, as if the walls themselves were pressing in. The rickety furniture threatened to collapse at the slightest breath. The small fireplace had long since become choked with soot, and no one even thought to clear it. There was only one bed for the two of them, so Reed napped on the floor despite Meredith’s protests. A damp draft crept across the floor, carrying the distinct smell of mold as moisture seeped into the stone walls. It was enough for a night, but Reed wouldn't risk living in such conditions for long.

  A dusty little mirror hung on the dirty, shabby wall. It was there more for show than for any real use. Generations of candles had come and gone on the ancient dresser, the dining table, and the wall shelves, but no one had cleared the grotesque mounds of melted wax. Every time Reed inspected them, he felt a disgust he didn't quite understand, viewing them like giant slugs clinging to the worn-out wood.

  After Meredith voiced her proposal, Reed asked in confusion, "How exactly do you think we manage that?"

  "It’s simple," she sighed. "I will dress as a noblewoman, and you will be my guard."

  "You think it’s that simple?"

  "No. But I am certain you won't hear anything useful in taverns. The people who know the advisor don't spend their time in such places. You’ll only gather rumors and waste time trying to sift the truth from the lies."

  "I didn't think you were serious before," Reed snorted.

  "Did it look like I was joking?"

  "You don't understand," he spoke quickly. "They don’t let whoever in to the places frequented by kreyghars with ties to advisors."

  "Can't we just pay?"

  "We could. Maybe with our heads even."

  Reed sat on the narrow bed and pondered. If he stopped being so stubborn, he could see there was a grain of truth in Meredith's words. On the other hand, he truly did not want to draw attention in high-society circles. Even if they were admitted, Reed feared unwanted encounters. Unless someone else could be found.

  "I think I have an idea."

  Meredith crossed her arms over her chest and raised an inquiring eyebrow.

  "You won't be going with me."

  "What?" she whispered, her eyes widening in fear.

  "Don't worry. I'll be nearby. We need someone who won't have to pay to get in because they'll be admitted regardless."

  "I don't think anyone would agree to that."

  Reed’s cheek twitched in frustration.

  "They will. I’ll go find out. He owes me. I think we can agree on something, if the fucker is still alive. He’s old," Reed explained in response to Meredith's questioning look.

  "Are you sure this is a good idea?" Meredith grabbed Reed's forearm with both hands, holding him back as he stood up and reached for his cloak. Fear was written in her eyes. She couldn't hide it behind her mask.

  "No," he admitted honestly. Meredith was still holding him, and the contact sent shivers down his body.

  "I’ll find out. If there's anything even slightly suspicious, we'll go together, or I'll think of something else."

  "Hector..." she implored, her grip tightening on his fingers.

  "Hey, what’s wrong?" Reed looked at her with concern. He covered Meredith's hand with his in a rare, soothing gesture.

  "I don't think we should involve outsiders in this. You could be killed for it. And me too."

  Reed smiled softly, squeezing her palm in his. "I won't tell him why we’re here."

  "And what if he guesses?"

  "Then he'll just be taking shots in the dark. My target could be anyone from an aristocrat to a servant. Or maybe I’m just looking for work."

  Meredith relaxed slightly, letting go of Reed. He took her by the shoulders and left a light kiss on her forehead.

  "Don't be afraid," Reed said with a smile. "The moment I notice something is wrong, we’ll leave immediately."

  "Alright," she nodded, looking up. "Be careful. Even if that man owes you, don't trust him completely."

  "I won't," he agreed with a wink. Reed didn't snark or point out that he had been in his trade for years and didn't need reminding that few people could be trusted. "I'll be back by evening."

  ***

  Meredith had entered the sleek, polished pub with Lance a little over an hour ago, but for Reed, that hour felt like an eternity. There was no telling how much longer he would have to wait.

  Lance was exactly the man Reed had counted on. The Wild Grove was a place for the world's wealthy, and Reed had no way in. So, Reed had paid the old man a visit. Lance hadn’t been glad to see him, but after listening to the request, he exhaled and looked almost surprised. Reed's silver tongue had played no small part in the conversation. He concealed his true goals, embellished a bit, and lied. And Lance had agreed to help. The debt to Lance did not appeal to Reed, but it didn't weigh heavily on him either. The old man had long since abandoned his games and would hardly live to see the moment he might need a thug’s help again.

  Meredith had not expected Reed's idea to succeed, but she had prepared nonetheless. When he saw her in her new outfit, he froze. All he could manage was a couple of inarticulate sounds interrupted by coughing and indistinct muttering. As he appraised Meredith’s efforts in such a skillful manner, he gave her a helpless smile.

  His old friend's usual clothes were strikingly different from what she had chosen as cover among the city women, and for Reed, the sight was a surprise. It was an awkward, uncomfortable, and even slightly strange but pleasant surprise.

  Watching his clumsy attempts to praise her, Meredith smiled, barely lifting the corner of her mouth, which tinted her beauty with threatening shades. She looked like one of those women who become fatal in men’s lives. That inevitable fate has been thundering ever since women began to smile the way Meredith did while watching Reed's awkwardness. She wore a blue dress made of heavy fabric embroidered with silver threads. The corset highlighted her slender, graceful figure and disciplined posture, making her look like one born to rule and subdue. Her dark eyes expressed nothing. Her face had turned into a lifeless mask under layers of white lead and powder, and her lips, painted with burgundy lipstick, drew the eye. Meredith looked as if she had stepped out of a painting.

  She had an equally unfamiliar hairstyle, decorated it with a comb. The very same one Reed had given her many years ago. Noticing this seemingly insignificant detail, he felt his cheeks flush. Despite the simplicity of the ornament, it did not ruin the look, for Meredith was not so easy to ruin, as it turned out. Proudly folding her hands over her stomach, she looked at Reed as if testing him.

  "Do I look like someone important?" she asked imperiously while raising a haughty eyebrow. A shadow of mockery appeared in her eyes.

  "Very much so," Reed replied as he cleared his throat without taking his eyes off her. Meredith’s lips stretched into a smile as her eyes softened and her usual expression returned to her face.

  In that moment, Reed caught himself on a strange thought that swept through his mind and left unfamiliar sensations behind. Meredith didn't see the change in his expression as he hurried to lead her to Lance's house. Introducing her as his mistress, Reed stayed behind the whole way while listening to their conversation. She remained pointedly cold and only occasionally curled her lips into a smile that felt foreign and even slightly cruel. Her eyes shimmered like steel in the dim light of the night lanterns, fascinating and frightening him at once. Lance’s faded eyes glided over Meredith’s body. Reed noticed the shadow of lust on his face more than once but could do nothing about it. He only silently clenched his fists and burned Lance’s back with a spiteful gaze, unable to understand why it angered him so much.

  When they reached The Wild Grove, Meredith finally turned to Reed and measured him with a blank, expressionless stare. Even though it was just a performance, resentment stirred inside him. It turned out she could be so cold.

  "Wait here," she spat. After giving him another dose of arrogance, Meredith turned back to Lance. "I hope I won’t be disappointed, Master Farner."

  Lance smiled awkwardly and surrendered all his defenses before Meredith’s masterful expression. Watching the scene, Reed let out a barely audible grunt. Lance had spoken to him like a servant, but as soon as Meredith turned her gaze on him, he became a servant himself. His repulsive, wrinkled hands trembled as he helped her up the steps.

  He stood by the wealthy establishment with his lips pressed into thin line. Familiar noise drifted from the open windows and irritated his already tense mind. The lantern light pressed against his eyes and made him crave the blessed darkness and sounds of the forest, but he could not leave. Meredith was somewhere inside, yet Reed couldn't even catch a glimpse of her. Fear nested deep within him and grew like an old sore, forcing him to look around tensely and check his weapons too often. His fingers trembled as they stroked the hilt of the dagger hidden beneath his cloak.

  Reed hid in the shadows and replayed every word and movement in his head, wondering if Meredith's bravado would play a cruel joke on her. He didn't know how highborn women of Forfield acted, so the gamble was a blind one. The torment lasted until midnight. The patrons of The Wild Grove began to disperse and vanish into the city streets’ darkness. Reed searched for Meredith but could not find her. Fear stirred in his chest once more but did not have time to sting as she walked out soon. She was looking at the crowd ahead with a bored expression. Lance trudged beside her, ready to offer his hand.

  Noticing Reed, Meredith waved her hand imperiously to call him over.

  "I always have to look for you," she said as her face twisted in a dissatisfied scowl.

  "Forgive me, mistress," Reed muttered, lowering his gaze.

  He bowed slightly but could feel the cold, prickly superiority of Meredith’s stare against his skin. When he straightened and looked into her eyes, her lips curled into a smirk.

  "If my mood were worse, I would order you whipped."

  "I see your service is doing him good," Lance said with a smile.

  Reed barely restrained an incinerating glare as he stared at the hem of his “mistress's” dress. Meredith raised an inquiring eyebrow and turned toward Lance. He smiled wider and explained, "Usually he has a very long tongue and a great deal of insolence."

  "Did he offend you?" she asked, frowning.

  "He was disrespectful," Lance said with an offended grimace. "You should be stricter with him."

  Meredith listened to Lance with indifference, her eyebrow still raised. She turned her gaze back to Reed and clicked her tongue in annoyance.

  "Perhaps I should. Lately I have been wondering whether to change my guard. He works well, but..."

  "There is always something inconvenient?"

  "Very much so," she grumbled with a languid sigh, her fingers fumbling with her sleeve. Meredith was nervous, and this performance was taking a heavy toll on her. Reed looked closely at her face. Beneath the layers of white lead and powder, a bright flush was showing. Her upper lip trembled and she breathed heavily, her nails occasionally catching on the corset’s lacing. Reed knew no one else would notice because a corset was a complex garment clearly designed as an instrument of torture and all women wearing it felt its discomfort clearly. But he knew Meredith well enough to see through her masks.

  "I would advise you to reconsider your choice of a bodyguard. One cannot trust their life to such scum. Thugs like him would sell their own mother if paid enough. No brains and no honor. He is not good company for you, and he is an elf, too." Lance cast a contemptuous look at Reed as he spoke the last word.

  "You old..." Reed exploded. Righteous anger seethed in his chest and he nearly forgot his role. The thought of killing Lance no longer seemed so reckless.

  "Silence," Meredith commanded with authority. Her palm shot into the air and froze. She clenched her trembling fingers into a fist and lowered her hand, hiding it among the folds of her skirt. Whether she had wanted to strike Reed or simply stifle her own rage, she successfully held back. Meeting Meredith's gaze, he went abruptly silent and pressed his lips together in fury.

  "Thank you, Lance," she said, forcing a restrained smile as she sank into an elegant curtsy. Lance bowed in return and pressed his palm to the left side of his chest. "I have had a fine evening."

  She offered her hand to Lance and allowed him to leave a brief kiss on her palm before she hastily pulled back, barely suppressing her disgust.

  "Perhaps I could escort you?" Hope flickered in Lance's voice.

  "And what do you think I have such formidable guard for?" Meredith’s eyes widened as if she had never heard a more foolish suggestion. Reed barely suppressed a triumphant smile. "Good night."

  With those words she turned sharply and beckoned Reed with a finger. She headed down the street without giving Lance a chance to respond.

  "I owe you," Reed threw the words at the old man before Meredith’s dissatisfied voice called out to him.