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"Thief," he says, a strange surprise in his voice

I blink at hith to protest "Obviously"

He stares atfro o Stunned, I can only stare at hih the air, I barely have the wits to catch it A tetrarch A silver tetrarch worth one whole crown Far more than any of the stolen pennies in h to tide you over," he says before I can respond In the light of the inn, his eyes glint red-gold, the color of war people up do not fail lossy, his skin too pale to be anything but a servant But his physique see legs He’s young too, a little older than h not nearly as assured of himself as any nineteen- or twenty-year-old should be

I should kiss his boots for letting ets the better of me It always does

"Why?" The word comes out hard and harsh After a day like today, how can I be anything else?

The question takes his "You need it more than I do"

I want to throw the coin back in his face, to tell him I can take care of ht you nothing? "Thank you," I force out through gritted teeth

Soratitude "Don’t hurt yourself" Then he shifts, taking a step closer He is the strangest person I’ve ever e, don’t you?"

"Yes," I reply, gesturing to myself With my faded hair, dirty clothes, and defeated eyes, what else could I be? He stands in stark contrast, his shirt fine and clean, and his shoes are soft, reflective leather He shifts underwith his collar I ht, his eyes darting "Do you enjoy it?" he asks, deflecting "Living there?"

His question alh, but he doesn’t look a what on earth he’s playing at

But instead of retorting swiftly, snapping back like Kilorn would, he falls silent A dark look crosses his face "Are you heading back?" he says suddenly, gesturing down the road

"Why, scared of the dark?" I drawl, folding my arms across my chest But in the pit of , he’s fast, and you’re all alone out here

His s "No, but I want to make sure you keep your hands to yourself for the rest of the night Can’t have you driving half the bar out of house and ho out a hand to shake

I don’t take it, re heat of his skin Instead, I set off down the road, my steps quick and quiet "Mare Barrow," I tell his to catch up

"So are you always this pleasant?" he prods, and for so exa me of what else he has in his pockets Silver for Farley How fitting

"The lordsto scare him off the topic It works beautifully and he retreats

"I have a good job," he explains, trying to brush it off

"That makes one of us"