If we don't see each other again, know that I enjoyed every second in your service.

Keelan.

Ren stared at the note, biting his tongue until the blurriness obscuring his vision went away. There was no way he was going to cry in front of Anik.

Ren glanced at him over his shoulder. There was still something he hadn't considered. His plan had only gone as far as this: the meeting with Berin and Niklas in Teu. But what came after that? The question seemed impossibly huge and heavy, and Ren sank down onto the bed and rubbed both hands over his face.

He wouldn't be able to go home for a long time. The reality remained that the Skarlan king would hold the capital of Frayne until someone found a way to remove him.

What else could Ren do? Run? Leave the country? And then what – live out the rest of his days in some faraway land where no one knew his name, surviving from day to day without family or friends?

Nausea threatened to overcome him once more, and when he stood up to let in some fresh air, the whole world spun around him. He braced a hand against the wall, arms shaking.

“You look like you're about to pass out.”

Anik's condescending voice was starting to grate on Ren's nerves, his tone hard and uncaring, as if he'd speak with the same kind of indifference if he was watching Ren being eaten alive by lions.

“I'm going to bathe,” Ren said, cringing at the roughness of his own voice. The bath had been on the list of services this inn offered, which was apparently a rarity amongst country inns. Right now, there was nothing Ren wanted more than to sink into a tub of warm water and let his muscles unclench and his mind relax.

The inn corridor was dark and crammed and smelled faintly of goat. Ren found the bath at the end of the hallway, revealed by a crudely painted bucket on the door. When he pushed it open, he discovered with horror that the bath was exactly that: a bucket of water warmed over hot coals. A hole in the floor served as a drain.

Ren stared at it, contemplating for a moment whether he should just return to his and Anik's room. This sad excuse for a bath bore little resemblance to the huge, finely decorated floor tubs he knew from his home in the castle, with tiles painted blue to imitate the ocean and corners carved like golden seashells.

Still, the illusion of lingering death and the feeling of blood staining his body wouldn't leave Ren alone, so he let himself into the room and closed the door. At least a few minutes of washing his hair and body would keep him from having to think about anything else.