After a moment of confusion, I'm lucky that two older palace guards recognize me and finally convince the younger ones to allow me inside the gates. Otherwise, I would’ve been thrown back into the bustling streets of Senlow, Aeradian’s capitol, and left to fend for myself. Or worse, tossed into an Aeradian prison, which I’ve heard is filled with brutish men who hold no respect for any woman, whatever her title. I likely wouldn’t survive the night. I feel relief and ease I haven’t experienced since leaving my home.

This feeling doesn’t last long.

First, they bind my hands in iron cuffs. I’m then deposited in a small, dingy chamber that smells like cat piss and told to wait. I gag, barely able to stomach the stench. I glance at a narrow cot with a stained mattress and then lower myself onto the one chair that creaks as I sit. Wherever I am, it’s not where favored guests wait.

The guards must be searching for a way to verify my claim to be Princess Idalia, especially given my filthy state and attire. I steady myself and count each frill that runs across my bodice. I repeat this count seven times. Then I count the stones set in the floor, the same way I’ve done hundreds of times back home.

It seems like hours before I hear scuffling outside the door. I stand, my heart pounding in anticipation of seeing Lachlan’s eyes again. I strain to hear his voice, but there’s only an indignant yelp as the door swings open. My heart sinks.

Braizen and the lute-playing horse owner stagger into the small room, iron cuffs shackling them together. The door slams shut. I roll my eyes and plop back into the chair.

“Great. You followed me.”

“Missed you too, Sparrow.”

I point at the other man. “And you? You came all this way because I stole your horse?”

The musician raises their bound hands and lifts a finger.

“Technically, three horses were stolen.”

“Yes, sorry about that,” Braizen says and drags his companion towards the cot where they sit.

“It’s quite all right, seeing as they aren’t even my horses, to begin with.”

“Those weren’t your horses?!” I almost screech.

“Nope. Truth be told, that was only my second time ever on one. Scared me to the four hells and back it did, racing as we did today. Thought I might die,” he grins.

I huff and slam back into the chair. I close my eyes. Please, old guard. Please hurry and fetch the King. Please.

“Then why did you give us such a hard time?” Braizen asks between laughs.

I try to ignore them, but it’s impossible in this tight, smelly space.