Page 81 of His Realm

“One of the king’s courtiers and I—well, you get the idea. But really, what are you doing out here? Where’s your wolf?”

My thoughts were jumbled, and that was why for a moment I thought he meant Varic. But no one called him a wolf even though he was the wolf of Maedoc. He was the prince. And Zev was my wolf.

“Are you in on this?” I asked him.

“In on what?”

“Are you plotting with Chryos and Carice?”

“Isn’t Chryos Cassius’s child?”

“Yeah.” I glanced around, not seeing anyone at the moment.

“Why would I be plotting with—he’s a child. And go back, plotting what?”

But I saw people moving then, and so turned and ran.

Darting down one of the side streets, I rushed into an open artisans’ market, dodged stalls, then popped out into an alley and emerged in the square.

“I do so enjoy running with you,” Cirillo said snidely, falling into step beside me. “It does get the blood flowing.”

“You should go. I just saw Carice and the prisoner, Sorin, and I think something’s happening that I haven’t considered.”

“Who’s Sorin?”

“I don’t have time to—he’s a prisoner and shouldn’t be out.”

“That I understand, but what do you mean by something you haven’t considered?”

“I dunno, I’m not sure, but I’m thinking whatever it is, it’s treason.”

“What are—oh,” he gasped, and I saw men bolting toward us.

“Go back to the palace and get help,” I ordered.

“No, you come with me,” he countered. “Varic will kill me if I leave you alone.”

“Only if I’m dead when he finds me.”

“Not comforting in the least,” he nearly shouted, grabbing my arm and pulling me after him down a street toward a dead end.

I couldn’t believe I’d trusted him, but then at the last moment I realized I’d missed the spaces on either side. It was an optical illusion, and if you ran straight, you’d go off the top of the stairs, one set leading right and the other left. Cirillo steered me right, and we ran on until he grabbed me suddenly, yanking me off my feet and slamming me against a wall. Covering me with his body, arms up on either side of my face on the limestone, he waited several moments, the two of us breathing together, as several men ran by. I stood there, plastered to Cirillo from chest to thighs, not moving until he stepped slowly back, looked around, then grabbed my bicep and led me down another set of steps.

“Do you have your phone?” he asked me.

“No, the first guy who attacked me smashed it.”

“Well, I don’t have one at the moment, as the last one fell into the ocean in the Maldives when the king invited me here to take your place.”

“Thanks for reminding me,” I said as we took another right and arrived at a food alley with stalls running the length of it.

“Please, I would have found a way out of it, or had planned to before I met the new and improved Varic Maedoc.”

“Improved?”

“Well, yes. I talked to him for a bit this morning when he came to call on his mother, and really, he’s nothing like I remember.”

“Don’t get attached,” I warned him. “I’m the one running with his seal.”