What were they going to do to her? Every inch of her body ached, and the guards watched her every move. One sneered at her, lips curled in disgust as if she were a rodent. If only they hadn’t taken her lock picks…She could hear James taunting her: This is what happens when you help the enemy. Mayhap the knight will give you a dungeon cell with a window, in gratitude for saving him.

Footsteps and voices filtered in from the corridor, and Kyra sat up straight. Two men came in. One she recognized as the young knight who had captured her—Sir Tristam, the guards had called him. He’d rinsed his face and changed into a fresh tunic, and Kyra was suddenly aware of the layer of dirt covering her from head to toe.

The second man was older and wore official’s robes. With a start, she recognized Malikel. Awake now, he had a commanding presence she hadn’t seen earlier. She should have killed him when she’d had the chance. A twist of her wrist, a few drops was all it would have taken. Do you think Malikel or any of his soldiers would think twice about killing you? You’re nothing to them. Street scum to be ignored, played with, or abused.

“Your name?” asked Malikel.

She couldn’t have responded if she had wanted to. If she opened her mouth, she would fall apart.

“Your name,” he repeated. The guard beside her raised his arm. Kyra flinched and looked away. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Malikel shake his head.

“This will be a long day if you refuse to answer even that simple question,” he said. “If I were you, I’d save my battles for later.”

“Kyra.” Her voice was dry and cracked.

Tristam leaned over the table. “I recognize you.” He spoke softly. “You were in the northwest quadrant the day of the attack. You threw a rock.”

“Little good that did me,” Kyra whispered. The shackles dug into her wrists. She tried to adjust her arms, and pain shot through her shoulder again. “I should have let you die.”

Belatedly, she realized she should have played along, tried to gain his sympathy. But it was too late. Tristam’s face hardened, and he pushed back from the table. “What were you doing in the Palace?” he asked roughly.

“There’s coin in the Palace. I need to eat.”

“You weren’t here for a simple burglary. I needn’t explain to you why that’s a ridiculous notion.”

She forced herself to look him in the eye. “If you know so much, why don’t you tell me why I’m here?”

“You work for the Assassins Guild.”

Kyra fought to keep her expression neutral as her stomach plummeted.