Nira snorted. “Is it? Where’d ya learn that? In the years ya spent down by the docks? Maybe it was all the time ya wasted loiterin’ around the Greymarket, talkin’ to other merchants’ daughters.” She furrowed her brow. “Well? How ’bout it? How many merchants’ daughters ya meet sitting on your little princess throne?”

“Look,” Adare said, seeing the point but refusing to concede it, “I appreciate your trying to help me, but I don’t think it’s working out. I’ll be just fine on my own. I think it’s best if we keep to ourselves, keep our own counsel from here on. People are more likely to notice us talking than they are to remark on a young woman walking quietly by herself.”

“More idiocy,” Nira snapped. “You got enough stupid to fill up a bucket.”

Anger abruptly boiling over, Adare turned on the woman, stepping directly into her path, forcing her to stop. She stood more than a head higher, and she used every inch of her height, leaning in close, the words tangling in her throat before spilling out.

“I am an Annurian princess,” she hissed. “I am a Malkeenian, and, until I fled the palace, I served as the Minister of Finance. I have no idea who you are, or how you decided that I was your responsibility, but, while I appreciate your aid, I will not tolerate either your treatment or your tone any longer.”

She realized, when she finished speaking, that she was panting, the breath hot in her throat. The brief tirade had taken only a moment, and she had kept her voice quiet enough that none of the other pilgrims seemed to have noticed, but the cart following them was rapidly approaching, and Adare turned abruptly, striding ahead, not looking to see if the other woman was following. A band of fear tightened around her chest. It was one thing to resent Nira’s ministrations, quite another to snap at the woman openly, almost publicly. So far, she’d been trying to help, but if she turned on Adare, she could end the whole façade with just a few words.

Stupid, Adare muttered at herself. Rash and stupid.

After a few worried paces, she heard the woman approaching, cane tapping on the stone flags. She was wheezing with the effort. No, Adare realized, not wheezing. Nira was laughing at her. Relief welled up, followed closely by a new surge of anger.

“You’re a stupid slut, all right, but at least ya got some spirit to ya. Now go over it again, or I’ll tell this whole lot who y’are.”