They pounded down the back stairway, polished wood creaking beneath their feet, rich panelling flashing past. The back ways of the Bridge House were a labyrinth, each turn of the stairs offering a glance of another corridor of identical, ornate doors, the symbols above indistinguishable as he galloped by. The smell of oil and incense permeated everything, but at least the thump of footsteps covered the gasps and moans that seemed to leak from the walls around him.

Blood thundered in Chel’s ears, but all he could think of was Loveless, Loveless kissing him, her hands on him, the heat of her in the cold room. Loveless retching, vomiting, their chance gone, Rennic shouting, raving. What had he said? Everyone was coming. Coming for the prince?

Loveless beat him to it, her pallor lifting as her cheeks flushed from their run. ‘What the fuck happened back there, Gar? You were supposed to be scratching an itch, not setting a fucking hunter on us!’

Foss’s breath was coming heavy, his cloak long-gone, sweat staining his clothing beneath. ‘What’s going on, boss? Who’s coming?’

Ahead of Chel, Tarfel was running, bandy-legged and reeling. ‘The gall, Vedren!’ he spat as he stumbled down the stairs. ‘The shame and the … the … impertinence!’

Rennic had run fast to catch them, his still half-fastened clothes streaming behind him as they rattled down the stairs. ‘Word’s out, there’s an open contract. Everyone is looking for us,’ he barked back. ‘Him, princeling, and his entourage: us!’

Loveless slowed to let him draw level. ‘Then why the fuck didn’t she shiv you with one of those hairpins the moment she laid eyes on you, instead of taking you out for a gallop?’

‘Because she didn’t know we were the entourage!’ Rennic’s breath rasped at his words. ‘You know she doesn’t hold with affiliation. They only just arrived from the north.’

‘So what tipped her off, Gar? What changed her mind?’

Rennic didn’t reply immediately as they heaved around another twist in the stairway.

‘Well,’ he said, ‘I mean, it’s not really important how she found out …’

‘Gar, you fucking idiot.’

‘I never know what to say afterward! It was awkward!’

‘Who did you mean by “they”, boss?’ came Foss’s anxious huff.

‘Just keep running, she gave us a headstart, right? That was fair of her!’

A loud whistle sounded from above, piercing the air and echoing through the floors.

Foss’s steps were getting heavy. ‘I’d say that headstart just expired, my friends.’

Ahead of them, a door flew open and two burly figures burst onto the stairs, draped in tan leather, edged with fur. Mawn, but not like the hunters Chel had seen on the mountain. These were broad and stocky, and they took one look at the fleeing company and charged.

‘Tarf, duck!’