Her skin was a rich brown, and just the sight of it was intoxicating to him, a more powerful drug than any strong drink he’d ever imbibed. It was wrong, he knew, to be with her this way. He was a married man, for one, though his wife and children were hundreds of miles away, so what was the harm? Secondly, she was a Wastelander, which made her half-feral, fully uneducated, and more than a little unclean. And yet that was everything that made her so alluring, so exciting, something different and other, everything that his stable, civilized life back home was not.

He kissed her deeply, forgetting all about the names on the list. Her name slipped from his tongue. Zaranaya...

Soraya didn’t make the same mistake she’d made the last time, pulling herself from his mind as soon as she had what she needed. That she was able to direct his mind so easily spoke to what he was: Behind that arrogant, cocksure façade, he was as malleable as a hunk of clay.

“What are you doing?” Commander Destin snapped, tearing his hand from hers.

“Zaranaya,” she said, keeping her voice low so it wouldn’t carry to anyone’s ears but his.

“Excuse me? What did you say?”

“Do you really want me to repeat it?” She was shocked by her own boldness, as well as the coldness in her voice. She’d never spoken to anyone like that in her life, much less a commander of Finfalla’s famed Knightguard.

He was looking at her differently now. Less like a target and more like an adversary he’d underestimated.

“Are you really going to believe this rot?” Loris said. “Ask her about the markings on her face, too. I’d wager they’re pagan symbols, no matter what she claims.”

“There’s been a mistake. It was a different young woman who left your tavern after curfew.”

The proprietor spluttered, “But her room was empty! I swear it on the Sculptor Himself! And what about her markings?”

“You are mistaken, sir,” the commander said. “And a few tattoos are nothing to get all worked up about. Am I right?”

There was a long moment where all eyes in the room were fixed on the tavern’s proprietor. Loris blinked but then seemed to understand what was happening. “Gods, these eyes of mine. Have never worked well, even with these useless bottles attached to them. Must’ve been mistaken. Definitely wasn’t this young, upstanding woman. I am most sorry for any inconvenience I’ve caused.”