Page 57 of Naga General's Mate

“I promised to protect her.” Mila blinked back tears. “Now I’m sitting in fancy cafes while she suffers.”

“You’re fighting for her freedom. That’s protection, too.”

Mila and Brivul soon stepped out of the cafe into the afternoon sun, her new dress catching the light. The weight of their conversation about Priscilla still hung heavily in her chest, but they had work to do. Brivul’s tail brushed against her leg as they walked, a subtle reminder that she wasn’t alone anymore.

“We should get supplies before heading back,” Brivul said.

The market district sprawled before them, stalls overflowing with fresh produce and dried goods. So different from the meager portions she’d survived on as a slave. “I know just what we need.”

They wove through the crowd, Mila leading them to a vendor selling dried meats and preserved fruits—the kind of food thatwould last during their journey. Her fingers traced over packets of jerky, remembering how she’d once dreamed of having enough to eat.

“Get whatever you want,” Brivul said.

“That’s dangerous to tell a former kitchen slave.” She selected several packets of the best cuts.

The vendor wrapped their purchases in brown paper. Mila added dried fruit and hard cheese—things that wouldn’t spoil quickly.

“You’re efficient,” Brivul said as they moved to the next stall.

“Had to be.” She examined a loaf of dense bread. “When you’re feeding a household of slaves on scraps, you learn what keeps.”

His tail twitched. She was learning to read his subtle reactions. “That’s not your life anymore.”

“No.” She smiled, adding the bread to their growing collection. “Now I’m shopping like a proper lady in her fine dress.”

“A proper lady who knows exactly what she’s doing.”

They filled their bags with enough supplies to last several days. The weight of real food, bought with honest money, felt foreignyet wonderful against Mila’s hip as they walked. She’d never been able to simply buy what she needed before.

“The transport station is this way,” Brivul gestured down a wide street lined with gleaming buildings.

Brivul’s tail stiffened beside Mila as they finally approached the transport station’s gleaming entrance. She recognized that tension as the same coiled readiness she’d seen in him during their first escape from Kurg.

“Don’t look back right away,” Brivul whispered. “But we’ve got company.”

Mila’s heart hammered in her chest. She counted to ten before casually glancing over her shoulder, pretending to adjust her dress. Three of Kurg’s guards pushed through the crowd behind them. She recognized Vex’s distinctive red scales and Torm’s bulky frame. The third was new, but the matching black uniforms marked them all as Kurg’s men.

“How did they find us?” The words came out barely audible.

“Someone must have recognized us at the market.” Brivul’s hand brushed her lower back, guiding her toward a different entrance. “This way.”

The massive transport station stretched before them, its crystal dome catching the sunlight. On any other day, Mila would have marveled at the architecture. Now all she saw were the shadowsbetween columns where guards could hide and the corridors they could get cornered in.

“The cargo entrance,” she suggested, remembering their previous escape. “They’ll expect us to go to the passenger platforms.”

“Smart thinking.”

Chapter 26

Mila

Mila’s heart dropped asshe spotted more of Kurg’s guards near the cargo entrance. Their black uniforms stood out against the station’s pale walls.

“Run!” Brivul grabbed her hand.

They sprinted across the polished floor, her new dress whipping around her legs. The sound of pursuit echoed behind them—heavy footfalls and shouted commands that made her skin crawl with memories of punishment.

“This way!” She tugged Brivul toward a maintenance corridor she’d noticed earlier. Years of navigating Kurg’s stronghold unseen had taught her to spot escape routes.

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