I wish I felt as confident as I sounded as I get to work on her manacles. But I cannot unchain her and defend us both at the same time, especially if I have to carry her out of here. From the looks of it, her legs will hardly be able to hold her up. And I am only one person. It will take a miracle to save us now.

Kiki

The mare carries me with an alacrity that makes me love her just a little. Not that I would ever turn my back on my good and loyal Rocinante, but this horse deserves a better master than the one she’s got.

I pat her neck as she trots back to the stable with little to no direction from me. She knows where her home is, after all.

“Once I slay your owner,” I whisper in her ear. “I’ll come back for you.”

She makes a happy whinny, as if pleased by this arrangement.

I dismount in a swirl of silk and lace. Slipping her bridle off, I lead her back into the stables. Luckily for me, no one’s around to see me return a stolen horse.

My luck doesn’t hold out as long as I want it to though.

Voices from the corridor leading into the main building ricochet off the wall.

“I’m telling you, I heard something.”

“Don’t see why you have to go sniffing out trouble where there is none.”

I press myself to the wall of the mare’s stall, ducking my head out of sight. She noses at the shoulder of my gown affectionately.

“You ain’t been working for the master longer than fortnight. You don’t know what he’s like when he’s angry.”

“Fine, fine. Where was this banging or clanging or what-have-you coming from?”

“Wine cellar, I think.”

Banging. Clanging. Wine cellars. Sounds like Ana.

Lifting my skirts, I step out of the stall and shut the door behind me as softly as humanly possible.

The men aren’t quiet, which makes them delightfully easy to follow. And they don’t hear me coming, which is even better.

When they reach the door to what I assume is the wine cellar, I clear my throat.

They turn, nigh identical looks of surprise on their faces. It’s almost comical.

The shorter of the two peers at me, bushy eyebrows furrowed. “You’re not supposed to be down here.”

I nod. “Very true.”

Reaching into my pockets, I smile as my fingers brush up against what I am looking for: Cold, hard steel.

My grin must be feral indeed.

The shorter man pauses. “Who the hell are you?”