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Aeris heeded Alisdair’s command, opening the doors to a new wave of villagers. They poured in—a familiar face among them.
I sat up a little straighter, fighting to keep the smile off my lips.Plan B.
I’m coming home, faywens. This promise I will keep.
He maneuvered his way to the front of the line and bowed to Alisdair. “Riordan, my lord. I’ve come to accept the job of royal traveling merchant,” he said, “and thank you for the opportunity.”
“I don’t recall bestowing such a title on you.” Alisdair slid a look to me. “Care to explain, my queen?”
I smiled wide. “We spoke of this yesterday, Alisdair, don’t you remember? Someone who can pass as Lyrican will pose as a merchant, and open trade between our kingdoms.” I produced a scroll from the folds of my skirt. “I have the merchant license right here. He can leave immediately.”
“Can he?” Alisdair gave me a long, measuring look. “Why did you choose him? Do you know him?”
“No,” I said simply. It was the only thing Emiana’s mouth would allow me to say. “I never saw him before the day we rolled past him in the square, but I chose him because he’s unchanged. What other reason would there be?” I asked. “Is there a problem? We did discuss this.”
“So we did.” Amusement laced his tone—both confusing and worrying me.
Why did it always feel like he was seeing right through me?
“Very well.” Alisdair snapped his fingers and the merchant license flew out of my hands and into Riordan’s. “Your cart and horses will be prepared for you to leave tomorrow. Go.”
Riordan claimed the scroll and scurried out, sparing me a single glance on his way out. I kept the grin off my face.
Alisdair was watching me.
“Let go! Let me go!”
A man with a gorilla’s face appeared in the entrance, and disappeared just as quickly. Grunting, he came back dragging an elbow, then the furry-faced boy that came with it.
Furry ears on top of his head; burnished-red fur starting on his forehead, continuing up his head, then down his back; an unnatural lengthening of his nose and mouth. He was obviously a fox faeriken, and even more obviously, he couldn’t be more than ten years of age.
“Get off me!” He launched at the man and sunk his teeth in his arm.
“Argh!” Pain wracked his face, but the man did not let go. “My lord,” he gritted. “I am Jotham. I request... to be seen f-first.”
Alisdair flapped a hand at him. “Proceed.”
Jotham hauled the boy in front of us and kicked the back of his legs, dropping him to his knees.
“Easy,” I cried. “You don’t need to be so rough.”
“There is every need, my queen.” Jotham was a portly man with the face, legs, and feet of a gorilla, but the rest of him was fae. It made him an even odder sight than the rest. “This little demon stole my entire basket of strawberry jam, then in his escape, slipped on the ice and broke them all.”
“Geroff!” The boy pummeled his fist, straining to bite Jotham again.
“I used the last of my strawberries to make that jam,” he continued. “They’re my best sellers. The food and coin he’s costme— My family was relying on it! Because of him, we’ll starve until the next harvest.”
Jotham shook him. “I demand he be punished in the strictest sense. These thieves don’t care who they hurt, who they ruin. I have a hungry boy too. Why should he starve because this brat refuses to work for a meal?”
Alisdair’s expression hadn’t changed throughout his entire speech. I doubted mine was as cool. I darted between the three of them, nearly tipping off the edge of my seat from wanting to grab that poor boy away from him.
I was once a hungry child who grabbed food off the back of a cart and didn’t pay for it. Someone grabbed my wrist just like that, and hauled me before a man as terrifying as Alisdair. That was the worst day of my life, and I’ve had many.
“Let him go,” Alisdair said. “He won’t run.”
Jotham obeyed, and the first thing the boy did was run.
He didn’t make it a step.
