Page 106 of Lady Knight and the Thief

Before the day was over, Westshade would be in their sights. Torren could only hope the Hound would not follow them into civilization. Whether or not the beast would listen to Cypress remained to be seen.

Torren tried to focus only on the bed—a warm bath instead of a river rinse.

“So, what are we going to try to pass ourselves off as at the Ball?” Cypress asked and brought her sooty buckskin mare level with his.

Immediately, Raindrop's pale ears flattened against her skull.

“What do you mean, Lass?”

Cypress sighed, and Torren forced his thoughts elsewhere, away from the breathy sounds he could draw from her lips.

“Imean, what are we going to use for fake names? We can’t very well waltz in there as Lady Cypress and Prince Torren.”

“Does it really matter?” Torren asked and leaned back in the saddle under the guise of a stretch.

Torren needed relief from the mounting pressure in his trousers. Whenever she was near, it felt like Pixie wine coursed through his veins.

“Yes,” Cypress hissed.

It made the corner of Torren’s mouth curl.

“Well, youarea Duchess. They can introduce you as that, and I as your guard?” Torren suggested, glancing at Cypress for her reaction.

“What’s your next suggestion?”

“Lass, you’ll have to get used to the title someday. It’s what you are.”

She shook her head. “It has nothing to do with that. Cade is very familiar with all the Duchesses of Grethnah. Announcingone he doesn’t know is bound to draw his attention more than we want.”

“If not a Duchess, then what?”

“You’ll be a merchant or something. Cade won’t care enough, and Caelith never speaks with them directly.”

Torren huffed a laugh void of amusement. “Like father, like son.”

Cypress murmured her agreement.

“So, merchants then. What kind of merchant?” Torren asked.

The tree cover above them broke, revealing a pale blue sky, with lazily drifting fluffy white clouds. Intimately, he knew they were once more in the boundary between Faerie and Grethnah. Torren exhaled. Whenever he left Faerie, he felt hollow. The forest beyond the Wylds was too quiet. Tame.

Fortunately, even in the tamer forests of the human lands, Faerie circles freckled the terrain. Once, every forest on the continent had been Wyld. The circles lingered as remnants of that age.

“Depends on how fine the costumes are that have been prepared for us,” Cypress said, giving him a knowing smirk.

“Alright, so we’re textile merchants then. Here from Brionneque.” The neighboring continent exported the finest silks and linens that human hands could create.

Cypress nodded. “Merchant siblings then. From Brionneque. Where in Grethnah are we now?”

Torren’s gut lurched. Siblings. Mother help him.

“Westshade will be within our sights, I would say…” Torren trailed off and tried to calculate the remaining distance. “Afternoon? Not too late in the day.”

“Do we have time to stop before we leave the boundary?”

“We could, yes. What do you want to stop for?”

Cypress shook her head with a smile, then aimed the grin at Torren. “Want to retry that race?”