Belaset laughed. “Not exactly, child. Come now. We must move quickly, before they take your sister.”

Ashyn knocked on the wagon door. “Hello? Is someone out there?”

It took a moment for the guard to answer.

“Yes?” he said.

“I’m unwell,” she said.

“It’s the dart,” he said. “It will wear off soon.”

“I—I’m going to be ill. Do you have something for me to . . . use? I don’t want to be sick in here. I’m afraid I’ll wake . . . the thing in here with me.”

Ashyn hadn’t wanted to say it that way, but Belaset insisted. If she called her a girl or used her name, it would be clear they’d been speaking, and the guard would be wary.

“Is there a bucket?” Ashyn asked. Belaset had said there was, hanging from the wagon, so the captives could relieve themselves.

The guard grunted. She heard the bucket clatter against the wood. He opened the door just enough to pass the bucket through. Ashyn pulled it into the gap so the guard couldn’t close the door.

Now it was time to use her wiles. Did she even have wiles? She doubted it, but she could feel the guard’s gaze fixed on those opened buttons, on the pale skin beneath.

Pretend I’m a maiden in a tale, and this is my warrior love, slipping to my door for a few stolen moments.

She leaned forward, letting her tunic open more, her hair tumbling over it, and she didn’t need to fake the blushing cheeks or shy gaze as she looked up into his face. He was not much older than she, his own cheeks darkening as he stared at her open tunic.

He’s only a boy. We can’t do this.

I’ll find another way.

“I . . . I thought I heard something in here,” she whispered, as if trying not to wake Belaset. “A snake or a rat. Could you take a look?”

She gazed up into his eyes. Not that there was much use in it. His attention hadn’t left her open neckline. She steeled herself and leaned over farther.

“Please,” she said. “I’d be so grateful.”

He nodded, his gaze not lifting until she backed onto the pallet. The move was not so much seduction as necessity—the wagon was only big enough to hold the wide sleeping mat. But when she backed onto it, his breath caught and he started forward, as if she were pulling him into her bed. He glanced over at Belaset, who was feigning sleep.

“Where did you hear the noise, miss?” he asked, his voice thick.

“Up here. At the head of the mat.”

He knelt on the pallet, his gaze on her. Then he put his hands down carefully, ready to crawl onto it, watching for any sign that she was going to stop him. When she gave none, he started forward.