He rubbed his eyes and flattened his hair. Time for another day of working for people who could destroy him if he refused. He had no other choices. No money. No family other than the Tenysons.

Nothing.

He’d made peace with this life a long time ago. His only other option was to join one of the mercenary troops and he wasn’t prepared for that.

The sun had yet to appear when he left the barn behind. A few shop owners were preparing for the day. The smell of fresh baked bread hung in the air. Dell glanced back over his shoulder to make sure his stepmother hadn’t followed him before ducking inside the bakery.

Agathe, the bakery owner stood at the counter shaping unbaked loaves. “Dell.” She smiled. “It’s been a few days, honey.”

“Morning.” He walked forward and kissed the old woman’s cheek. Her hair was pulled back from her face in a neat bun, revealing intelligent eyes. He leaned against the counter. “I was with Mari and Corban.”

“Uh oh.” She grinned. She’d always taken great entertainment in his antics. “Who did you fight this time?”

“Orlo.”

She choked on a breath. “We need to work on that brain of yours, boy.” She laughed. “Or maybe it’s the ego that needs work.”

He shrugged and snagged a pastry from the bin. She slapped his hand.

He reached into his pocket and procured one of the few silver coins he had left.

“Do I want to know how you got that?” Agathe asked.

“Probably not.”

She lifted a flour-covered hand and patted his cheek. “I’m not taking your money, boy. Just come back this evening. You can eat dinner with me and share more of those joyful smiles.” She wiped her hands on her apron. “I swear, you keep me young.”

He kissed her cheek again. “You’ve got yourself a date.”

He shoved the rest of the pastry into his mouth as he stepped back out onto the street.

The city spread out before him as the sun peeked over the two story wooden shops. Flat, terracotta roofs spanned the horizon.

A horse’s hooves echoed against the stone road. Dell loved Madra. Since arriving in the city, they’d welcomed him with open arms. Shopkeepers had kept an eye on the wild boy who never seemed like he had enough to eat.

They’d given him their children’s old clothing.

He was one of them.

Only, he wasn’t.

Because Dell was a merchant’s son. His family’s ships brought the goods sold in their shops and they used their power to control their daily lives. The Tenyson boys bullied the common kids through their adolescence and continued to lord their control even into adulthood.

What would people like Agathe think if they knew Dell carried the Tenyson name as well?