My eyes wandered through the many passing faces. They avoided eye contact with me as if I was invisible. This butt of mine graced the opening stomp next to the door of this house that was begrudgingly given to me.

I was sure I lived in their mind, yet they were not good thoughts.

Guess I knew the feeling of being a lord without the title. Funny, I forgot that was what I was supposed to be chasing once upon a time.

But the only thing I wanted now was safety. I could not become a Queen if I was dead so I needed to live. That was becoming more difficult as time passed. Even now as I flexed my arm it felt like I was dying.

Where did all this pain come from?

I looked up and saw that Five was still up in the tree. It was close to the center of this little hamlet and over a house.

A presence crept up my back and gripped my heart. My feet swept forward and pulled me into a twirl. Janilla slid back in shock, so dirt raised from her skidding slippers.

I growled low. "What the hell is wrong with you? Don't sneak up on me like that."

She bowed incessantly, while a basin laid within her hands. "Sorry, my Lady."

Janilla stooped to where I once sat. I looked at her joyful face. She said, "Here I asked if they had any clean water and they directed me to a stream close by."

The water looked slightly green. Well, it looked better than expected. I thought it would be cloudy and white. After calming down, I sat back down, took the basin, and sipped some.

It tasted clean with a side of bitter greens. I took another gulp.

Janilla leaned back, sighed, and sat on the wooden platform leading out from the door. “I was asking around about the King. If they heard any news. All they know is that he was assassinated.”

I said nothing.

She continued, “These people would not care about it since they are mavericks. They do not live under the empire's thumbs. Hmm, they don't like outsiders either.”

“I got that already,” I replied.

“Still, shouldn't we continue to move on? If anyone finds out they are harboring a witch they will die. And—our enemies and former friends might attack.”

It had been a day since the showdown where they surrendered. I was not even sure where Sandream was. My frown crested my lips. “I know. Besides, I have to wait on Valor first. He has what I need.”

Janilla squinted her eyes at me. “Ah—"

Crunching feet, our eyes shifted to see two men approach us. They smiled showing their bad yellowed teeth at Janilla.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Janilla stood up and addressed them with a nod. One of them spoke, “Artus wanted to see yuh,” he glanced at me but ripped his eyes away as if it was forbidden. “T-t-th-”

“Witch?” she asked.

“Y-yes.”

Artus was the man who almost killed me with his knife attack and was the leader of this place.

We followed the men to this big building. Hardwood walls settled under the curling bark of the vine-strung timber roof. We stepped inside and smelt the strong scent of steamed fish with an accent of agarwood. I saw several women going about their duties in the environs.

Artus was at the end of the second room. I asked, “Why am I here Artu—”

A boy surged forward and pointed a wooden sword at me. I drifted back in surprise. Janilla grabbed my shoulders and rubbed them like soothing a baby.

Artus widened his eyes at me before he shot a look at the boy. “Amuel!” He said which prompted the boy to turn, pointing the sword at Artus. The boy looked frightened, and Artus sighed. “Go play somewhere else. Go, now.”

Amuel let his sword arm fall and I threw off Janilla's hands causing her to back away with them held up in surrender.

Amuel shot a glance at me before running away.

“Sorry about that. I wanted your assistance with something witch.”

“My assistance? What do I look like, some servant to you?” I asked in a leveled sass.

Artus frowned. “We are your servants,” he said through grit teeth.

“Glad you remembered and yet you address me like some friend?”

“You gave us no honorifics to use,” he tried hard not to shout, but he restrained his voice. He looked around as if cautious of who was near. “Look, witch, you can use magic, no?”

I looked back at Janilla who had her mouth agape. Magic, I knew none, but I could not admit that then. “Yes, harboring me is one thing. Requesting my services will make you an outcast.”

Artus snorted. “We are already outcasts.”

Five you hearing this?

Yes.

Artus suggested a different location so we followed Artus to the edge of the town where there were some ramshackle huts. They looked deserted.

Artus turned towards me. “Can you kill someone?”

I looked at Janilla before facing him again. “I could.”

Artus smiled, “Good, n—"

“Why?”

His eyes widened. “Why?”

“Yes, why should I do it?”

Artus frowned. “Say it and it shall be done.”

“This hamlet is lowly and trivial. There is nothing you have that I want.”

“Hmm, I beg to differ.”

I stared trying to gauge him and his thoughts from his eyes.

He spoke, “You are running from something? Martoniss perhaps?”

My eyes narrowed on him. “What are you suggesting?”

“I am not sure Princess Carmine, you advise me.”

I sighed then smirked. “Nothing to advise, because I am not that person.”

“I might be wrong.” He started walking around me. “Still, we have virgins. If you require it we can provide them.”

Virgins, I vaguely remembered some of the old doctrines that those lying bishops would spill into the heads of the uninformed.

I was not sure how much of those stories of devil and sacrifices were true. Likely it was nothing more than scare tactics. My eyes wavered from him towards the shifting leaves of the forest.

“I need not such things right now. Pray tell, who is it that you want dead anyway?"

“We have been hidden from the King’s eyes for a long time, but we are in danger of losing our freedom. A traitor has escaped our humble village, the possibility of him giving away our location to those cretins is a worry to my people. I do not want to move our people if I could. I want him dead.”

Janilla and I traded concerned looks. I turned around and said, “Best start packing.”