What’s the nature of royalty, she wondered. Is it like a gown you put on that disappears when you take it off? Does anyone look beyond the finery? Could anyone in the queendom take her place, given the right accessories? If so, it was contrary to everything she’d ever been taught about bloodlines.

Without further incident, she passed through the gate tower, past the dour guardsmen at the entrance, under the dangerous-looking portcullis, and into the chill of the evening. Day workers who lived outside of the castle grounds streamed across the drawbridge, heading home. The younger servants were laughing, joking, and flirting with each other. Some of the older ones plodded along, obviously weary.

Torchlight flickered on the river below as she crossed over the bridge. At the far end, she stopped and looked back at Fellsmarch Castle, trying to imagine how the people of the city might view it, remote and brooding, lording over the city.

Amon was waiting by the gatehouse at the city end of the bridge, surveying the flow of people off the drawbridge. To her surprise, he’d shed his blue Guard uniform and was dressed in a long cloak and dark breeches. As he turned, though, she could see the hilt of his sword poking out through the front of the cloak.

If she’d hoped to fool Amon, she was disappointed. He fixed on her before she got within fifty feet of him, watching her as she pushed through the crowd. She paused in front of him and curtsied low, grinning.

“You’re late,” he grumbled. “I was beginning to hope you’d changed your mind.”

“Call me Rebecca Morley, young sir,” Raisa said, rising. “How do I look?”

“It’d be better if you’d dressed as a boy,” Amon said. “It’d be better if you were ugly.”

She guessed that was some kind of compliment.

“I fooled the mistress of kitchens, you know,” she said, rather smugly.

“Hmmph,” was Amon’s comment.

“Let’s pretend we’re sweethearts meeting after work,” she said, taking his arm. “Why didn’t you wear your uniform?”

He snorted. “One guardsman on his own is more a target than protection.” Amon steered her onto the Way of the Queens. “We’ll take this through Ragmarket all the way to the bridge,” he said.

“I was hoping we’d get to see something of the neighborhood,” Raisa said as he marched her straight down the middle of the street.

“You’ll see more than you want to see, before we’re done.” He gently extricated his right arm from her grip and moved her to his left side. “So I can get at my sword,” he explained when she looked up at him questioningly.

Blood and bones, he’s jumpy, Raisa thought.