Page 4 of The Rebel's Prize

"Doesn't mean a man can't have regrets. Especially when you stand here looking as beautiful as the day I left you. Except perhaps for the choice of hair dye?" He grinned suddenly, the smile full of his not inconsiderable charm. "I like the red and black better."

So did she. "I'm trying to avoid attention."

"Difficult for a woman like you," he retorted, grin widening.

Was it a test? To see if she would flirt back? Did he truly regret breaking off the...arrangement they'd shared in her early years in Anglion? Well, if he did, she did not. And she was married now.

"Well, I'm sure you've found other company to console you," she said gently. "And we were talking of caravans, not old memories."

He smiled ruefully. "No second chances?"

"You will always have a place in my affections for what you did for me. And my friendship. But what's past is past."

"You always were a wise woman." He straightened. "The caravan master might want to speak to you first. Most of them don't take many passengers. They'll prefer those who have some skills to contribute to the journey."

She shrugged. "That seems reasonable. And I have skills to offer." She knew enough about healing to be useful on a journey, and she wasn't afraid of hard work. And she was sure she'd be able to convince a caravan master to give her a chance. After all, she'd faced down the emperor of Illvya and the king of Andalyssia, not to mention the queen of Anglion. If she couldn't convince a Miseneian caravan master that she could be helpful on a journey, then she deserved to be kicked out of the diplomatic corps should she ever return to it.

"They may also want a deposit to secure your place."

She nodded. "That's not a problem. Though I didn't bring much coin with me tonight."

"I can make the payment for you, and you can pay me."

"That is kind of you, thank you. You always were a good man, Samuel." She didn't know if that was a sensible thing to say, but after all, once upon a time during those early months in Anglion when she hadn't been sure that she might survive the grief and homesickness, Samuel had been the one who'd come to check on her and the one who she'd finally let into her bed. He hadn't stayed there long, not wanting, he'd said, to cause her trouble. Though she imagined that that worked both ways and he had plenty of women willing to share his nights. One in every port—wasn't that what they said about sailors?

Though if that was the life he chose to lead, who was she to argue? It wasn't as though she had been chaste her entire life, and she'd currently abandoned her husband. Some members of the court would consider that a graver offense than a discreet affair. But she didn't want to give him the wrong idea, so she pushed back the chair and stood.

He did, too, shaking his head as he scooped up the scriptii from the table. "No I wasn't. But I'm a respectable man of business now. More's the pity. Young Sophia making up with Aristides has taken half the fun out of life."

"Oh, I'm sure you still find some mischief. You can't tell me you don't still hide part of your cargoes from the tax collectors."

He barked a laugh. "Now that would be telling, love. But, speaking of business, I have more of it to attend to tonight. We need to get on. Where are you staying?"

She considered a moment. Should she trust him? The hard truth was she didn't have another good option without Lucien's magic, so perhaps it didn't matter whether she could or not.

"Chloe, love, if you think I can't find out where the pretty Illvyan woman who's new in town is staying in less than an hour, you're insulting my intelligence again."

"The Copper Fish," she said with a sigh.

His mouth quirked, the dimple in his tanned cheek popping into view. Just as well she was married. He may have grown older, but he was still handsome.

"Good. Let me see you back there, and then I'll be in touch in a few days."

"You don't need to walk me home, Samuel. I have a sanctii."

"I'm sure you do, love, and you can tell me more about that one day. But if you're trying not to catch anyone's eye, then it'll be easier if you have a man escorting you through this part of town. Your sanctii committing violence on some poor sailor who asks you how much for a tumble would be remarked on."

She snorted and swept a hand down over her shabby gray dress. "I doubt anyone wants to tumble this."

Samuel raised an eyebrow. "You may have dyed your hair a hideous color, love, but there's no hiding your face. You've always been beautiful. And most of the ladies working the docks are not. At least not after a few years. You'd be marked as fresh meat before you'd taken twenty steps. Especially now that the sun has gone down. Unless you can do something to hide that lovely face of yours, you'll take my arm, keep your head down, and let me walk you home."

Chloe hid her wince. If she could have disguised her face, she would have, but she'd severed her bond with Lucien and given up her access to his skills as an illusioner in the process. She'd never had much talent in that direction, and she definitely couldn't pull off one of the complex facial illusions that were part of the reason she was headed to Partha. If Lucien was with her, he could have done it easily enough. Of course, if Lucien was with her, she wouldn't need Samuel in the first place.

"Fine," she managed as she mentally cursed Deandra and her ash-burned fellow conspirators. "You can walk me home."

CHAPTER2

Time crawled for the next two days. Samuel had issued strict instructions about which parts of town to avoid during the daytime and even stricter instructions about staying inside at night, then left with a promise to be back in touch when he found a caravan that would suit her needs.

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