"Jack?"

A flushing and only slightly exhausted Jack couldn't help gazing with wonder at the beautiful girl now lying on his chest, her dusky complexion and lush curves such a delicious contrast to his own pale frame, now far more cut than it had ever been in his first life, no matter how seriously he dedicated himself to his summer workouts, or how hard he had pushed himself during the half year he had secretly trained as a soldier under the tutelage of his father and friends when it became hauntingly clear to his brilliant parents that the world really was coming to an end, and if they wanted a spot on the one way journey to a fresh new world, they'd have to fight with everything they had to get it.

So they did.

He shook away flickers of painful memory, of jumping through the gate between worlds with a bullet lodged underneath his heart. A true dead man walking, fighting fiercely for an upload to give him a second shot at life.

A life he was determined to savor and enjoy at that very moment, smiling at the exotic beauty kissing slightly pointed ears that had never before seemed more to him than an odd family quirk, like his first mother's sometimes colorful Irish profanity of a lifetime ago.

Finesse check made!

And between one breathless gasp and next, Jack had rolled her over, now on top, smiling down on her as she blushed prettily, before caressing her form with feather-soft kisses.

Powerful strength, assertive dominance, and the gentlest of caresses. He already knew how much she craved those three things in tandem, and for all that he was by nature very cautious and tender in the realm of love, he found himself blossoming into the man she expected him to be. Perhaps needed him to be.

Now wrapping his arms around her with a tenderness that had nothing to do with lust, a sudden fierce desire just to protect her from the tumultuous dangerous world just beyond this camp.

He inhaled her soft silky curls, whispering the words of his heart into her hair, words he sure as hell hadn't expected he would feel for anyone he had only met a few days ago.

Words said to a girl he had fought beside, risked his life to save, and she him as well.

"Jack?" breathless surprise with his whispers as she gently pulled away, gazing at him so intently with those beautiful almond eyes that suddenly filled his world.

"Stormy, I—"

And before he could blink, one warm palm had covered his mouth. She winked at his look of surprise, slowly shaking her head with a smile. And it both broke his heart and elevated him, the tears he suddenly saw in her eyes.

"Say nothing, Jack. Just hold me, okay?"

Words followed by the most passionate of kisses, a moment of surprise as he kissed her back just as fiercely, aching to whisper that which must not be said, but doing his utmost to show her with every kiss, stroke, and gentle caress just how fiercely he was coming to care for her, until she bit her lip and guided him to rapture once more as they lost themselves in sweetest bliss, Jack saying with his eyes what she never wanted said aloud.

And the way she gazed back at him when she cried out made it clear he wasn't the only one whose heart had been pierced by an arrow no shield could block.

______________________________________________________________________

"Jack. Jack! You have to wake up. We're running out of time!"

Jack awoke with a gasp, eyes widening in sudden alarm. "What's wrong?"

Stormy's anxious gaze filled Jack with sudden apprehension. "Word from a mutual friend. Commander's coming before first light." She gave a frustrated shake of her head. "Someone saw fit to give word that a surprisingly talented healer had been found." Dark brown eyes locked with his own. "A gifted healer bound by no covenant to college or Guild. A common citizen any officer could recruit in a heartbeat, for the good of the Duchy."

Jack swallowed a sudden surge of panic. "Shit!"

"Quite." She flashed a bittersweet smile. "As much as I'd love to hold you in my arms every night, this isn't the life you're looking for, Jack. I can tell that right off." She turned away. "And I'd never forgive myself if the boy I..." she shook her head. "Your life is your own. And no one should be allowed to force your hand."

Jack paled, shaking his head. "Wait, they can just draft me like that? But I'm an adventurer. That means something, doesn't it? Hell, I haven't even picked my class!"

Stormy chuckled bitterly. "And that's the point, Jack. You don't have any class or the Guild behind your back. That means you can be effectively press-ganged, and, unlike any adventurer signing on to the Guild who immediately enjoys rank and prestige equal to landed gentry, so long as he swears to help defend the city of his residence during times of siege, any draftee or soldier who finds himself on the Path of Peril will take on whatever class his commanding officer sees fit to instill."

Jack felt a flush of ice cold dread with those words, mind ringing with sudden panic. "Shit. By all that's... hell no. Healing is the one class..." his eyes grew intent. "You can't understand. No one can! I've played the role of a healer so many times before, during so many lives, even as a level 1 adventurer..." he shuddered. "It left scars on my soul, Stormy. Scars that leave me knowing far more than I should about that art. Wounds that almost crippled me so badly it's a miracle I can heal at all. And until very recently, it was a soul-crushing agony to even attempt to do so."

He swallowed. "Desperate need alone pushed me to the point I can actually heal as well as I now can. Without pain. But I do that knowing there are safe limits to what I'll be forced to endure. That after unexpected peril and dire need, there will be days or weeks of peaceful tranquility. If I were to force my gift any further... such as work full time at a sick house filled with the wounded as opposed to occasional use healing a sick loved one or pulling adventuring companions from peril... I just know it would quickly get to the point where I could never cast another healing spell again."

Stormy's eyes widened. "Wait, seriously? Jack, we all just jumped through a handful of years ago. What the hell are you talking about?"

Jack gazed for long moments into his lover's strikingly beautiful eyes so filled with perplexity, almost hating what he would have to say. Have to do. She eventually flushed and lowered her gaze, and Jack couldn't help but shake his head. Did no one really tell her? Were her and her band of friends really as ignorant as Mitch and his crew had been? Jack sighed. Stormy was the farthest thing from stupid, at least as smart as he was. She had to have guessed, at least.

"Do you really not know?"

She trembled, now not even willing to look at his gaze.

"Know what?"

He stroked her cheek, smiling sadly down at her. "We jumped in centuries ago. At least."

She shuddered and paled at those words. "No, that's..."

"You wouldn't remember, Stormy. You have no flashes of previous lives. Because you've been walking the Path of Peril this whole time. So when you woke up, along with your friends a few short years ago..."

She trembled, choking back a sob. "I know. Don't say it... I know..." Her hand was shaking. Jack gently took it and put it close to his chest.

"I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "Don't be. It's not your fault I... I wiped, didn't I?" she gave a bitter laugh. "This isn't my first life, is it? And I have absolutely no recollection of what happened before. For all I know... I've wiped countless times before."

Jack shrugged. "Who knows? All I can tell you is that your life is precious, Stormy. You are precious. Please do your best to live and keep safe." He gently kissed her cheek. "I have absolutely no right saying this, since I'm determined to put my life on the line in the desperate hope of forging a class I can live with for the next few centuries, but you can always leave the army, Stormy." he flashed his gentlest smile. "You're not the first witch I've met while I was here."

The comment she was about to utter froze on her lips. She gazed at him curiously. "Really?"

Jack grinned. "Yup. I met a strikingly beautiful Irish girl, who reminded me just a bit of my mother, actually." He flushed. "I mean, my Earth mother. Though, come to think about it, my mother here is a bit of a witch herself."

This earned a definite arch smile. "Really. In addition to being an elf? I take it she's the one responsible for the adorable little faerie tinkling with laughter like a tiny bell and covering your ears with your adorably thick locks of hair? I swear she stuck her tongue out at me every time I try to run my hands through your hair. I do believe she's a jealous little thing, Jack!"

Jack coughed nervously. "Yeah... you would spot that, being a witch yourself. But let's keep all that l between you and me, okay? The point is that when the rush of Delving was no longer worth the peril, Julia apprenticed herself under a local wise-woman. I think those are basically mortal witches who gain power through skill and training, not levels, and often have access to an impressive amount of knowledge, including how to make potent healing potions that don't even require magical herbs."

Stormy smirked. "So, you think I should settle down and become an apprentice what, wise-woman? Herbalist?"

Jack winced at her tone and was both surprised to find that she didn't look offended so much as gently amused.

Jack grinned sheepishly. "Not my place to say anything, right?"

Surprisingly, she flashed a sad smile. "If you were my husband, I'd honor your every word... just as I know you'd honor mine."

His cheeks blazed at that.

Then she laughed and kissed him fiercely, her gaze solemn once more. "But I won't ask you to give up your dream, Jack, anymore than you would discourage me from doing everything I can to serve my time and protect my men." She flashed an almost playful smile. "Besides, a girl has to eat, and twenty years service will net me a stipend I can actually settle down on." she shrugged. "Who knows? Mom and dad always wanted me to go the med school route. And if we adventurers, even us retired ones, really are immortal..." she grinned and winked. "I'm just grateful I still look the exact same age as I did when I first came to."

"When was that?" Jack asked, curious despite himself.

She smirked. "It's not polite to ask a girl her age, Jack."

"Because you don't look a day over nineteen."

She grinned. "I jumped through when I was twenty. I've been here for four years." She kissed his cheek. "And I'm already falling for you. Because when a handsome half-elf prince falls into your lap, you'd be a fool to let him go."

Her warm smile turned anxious when an abrupt knock rapped against their door.

"Shit. Jack, get dressed already. We're running out of time!"

Alarmed, Jack did just that as the girl helping him dress himself in his gambeson and attire of a slightly different hue than that which he had been loaned in the infirmary quickly whispered the plan.

"You got that, lover?" Stormy flashed a sad smile, before kissing him one last time.

"Stormy..."

She blinked back tears, wearing nothing more than a thin silk robe that spoke of her status or former wealth more than anything else. "No, Jack. I won't ask for any promises." She swallowed. "I'm contract bound to serve another two years." Her eyes held his own. "Even if I wanted to leave before then. Even if I'm seriously rethinking giving them twenty years of my life, because things are heating up, and as much as I feel fiercely protective of this duchy I've adopted as my own... I don't particularly want my life treated like a disposable resource by some arrogant asshole of a CO who thinks a noble bloodline makes him any better than my former fiance who actually cared about his troops."

She flushed and lowered her head. "Sorry, I..."

Jack held her fiercely close. "You have nothing to apologize for. The man you loved once before was lucky as hell to have you." he kissed her brow. "I was lucky to have you for a single night, and I can only hope that, when your time is over..."

She smiled through her tears and wiped her eyes. "I'm not holding you to any promises, Jack. I'd never be so unfair. We only met three days ago, and I know damn well the passions that grab ahold of one as an adventurer. So if you're really determined to dare the Delver's path..." she swallowed. "There's something of a special inn near the back entrance to the city dungeon, located underneath the rear of the Arcane Academy. I... I used to stay there with my former companions, back when I dared the path you're about to. If you're sure you want to keep in touch... I can leave you a message there."

Jack blinked. "Really. A dungeon's beneath the school? And yes! You better believe I want to keep in touch!"

She smirked. "The college is huge. More like a proper ivy league campus, with all the greenery and grounds you'd expect. It even overlooks the great lake the city adjoins." She frowned. "If what Solena told me is accurate, the grounds actually take up a good tenth of the city, and the city's huge."

She shrugged, holding her robe close to her frame. "The lake adjoins Greyspeak on the north. The Arcane Academy takes up most of the northwest corner of the city. Save for Magician's Row, the nickname of the streets adjoining the college to the South and East."

She sighed and smiled. "And the shops, restaurants, and inns on both sides of that wide boulevard are where adventurers, student mages, and the well-to-do looking for something different, or really, really tasty food, like to shop. Of course there's a massive wall of gigantic rosebushes cutting off any view of the college proper for mundanes, but it is beautiful to look at, and you feel like you're in a fancy garden as much as the city, with the scent of roses perfuming the air."

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Intent eyes gazed into his own. "And just across from the inn is the dungeon entrance, at least the public side, and in its bowels you'll find portals leading to several different tiers of difficulty. Now this part is very important, Jack. Never dare any portal save the one with the white sigil above the entrance, and only after you pick your class, and definitely never dare it alone. Go inside with a good sized group of at least four, but six or more are better, with at least a couple members who have dared the delve before."

Jack dipped his head. "Dare the white portal only, with a group of like-minded adventurers, never alone. Got it. Will I face any difficulties getting permission to enter the dungeon?"

She shook her head. "You shouldn't It's open to anyone who would dare the Academy Delve, so long as they show basic martial competency and any kind of protective gear. Once inside, you'll find the staircase opening into a tunnel that will lead you to the actual portal entrances." She flashed a bitter smile. "And even that supposedly harmless decent into the shallowest depths of Shadow is still more perilous than you might believe. So many stupid kids with no talent for delving at all, no matter how well they hold the spear in their hands, still end up losing their lives every year, seeing if they even have the knack for adventure."

Jack blinked. "But wait, if it's safe..."

She shook her head. "Not safe, only stable. And that stability is it's own kind of safety. And it's a gradual dip into Shadow, so gentle you think you'll have time to retreat before you drown in it. But so many desperate fools ignore the signs of their own imminent doom, desperate to believe they can hold out just a little bit longer, and by then it's too late. A handful of seconds, easily squandered, is the only saving grace they could hope for, unless they actually have a Delver's potential." She flashed a sad smile. "Sorry, Jack, we're running out of time. Anyway, you'll understand once you get there."

She hugged him tight before letting him go, turning her head away when all he wanted to do was kiss her. "You'd best go now, Jack." She squeezed his hand. "Silver Wand inn. The proprietress let's Delvers rent message boxes." She bit her lip, now meeting his gaze. "Just ask for Stormy Sing. I can't promise I'll be able to leave anything regularly but..."

Jack flushed and smiled. "Jack Evergreen."

Soft lips caressed his own one last time. "Get out of here, Jack. A friend is waiting just outside."

And with those final words she pushed open the door to the chilly night, and Jack found himself before a smirking Samuel, holding the reins to a horse.

Jack turned to say farewell, but the girl he was rapidly falling for had already slammed the door shut, Jack's sensitive ears just barely making out the sobs of the girl just beyond.

Samuel gave a sympathetic pat to Jack's shoulder. "Come, lad. Best we get you on your way." With that he led Jack to stables, where he was immediately directed to put on a green and white striped tabard and given a curiously light satchel by a beaming Olle, who Jack had last seen sobbing with relief when his guts had finally slipped back in their proper place, now gazing at Jack with such gratitude that Jack couldn't help but flush and turn away.

"This horse is for you, Jack," said a deferential Olle. "You can ride her, can't you?"

Jack forced himself to nod. "Road a bit on the family farm," was all he said by way of explanation, earning an approving nod from Olle.

"All you need, then. Now, wear this cap with the tabard." Olle turned to his friend and nodded. "He looks the part, doesn't he?"

Samuel smirked. "He even has that dear in the torchlight look, pulled out of the captain's warm cozy bed and forced into the night. Just like any messenger boy."

Olle gave a rueful chuckle. "My wife already thinks he's an angel, pulling me from the brink of death like he did, but he looks like any other young recruit, earning his way to enlisted."

Jack frowned and blinked, furrowing his brow. "Wait, isn't the front gate guarded? Am I really just going to ride on out?"

The riflemen exchanged knowing grins. "One thing about barracks everywhere is that they're all staffed by messenger boys," Samuel said. "Young men just getting their heads on straight, learning the ropes, pushed to the point of exhaustion because its fun putting the newbloods through their paces. They're lucky if they get eight hours sleep any two nights in a row, and by the time an officer decides he likes what he sees and is willing to bring a new lad on board, he's so grateful he wouldn't complain, no matter where he's stationed. And whether or not he needed his saberwork polished, or can use a bow competently and properly tilt with his lance, for damn certain he's one with his horse and will unflinchingly follow orders by that point, which is half of what it means to be good cavalry when all is said and done," the man explained.

Olle chuckled. "Which means that the gate guards won't see Jack, the hero who saved half of our lives that a certain brown-nosing CO will snatch up for his own schemes just as sure as I'm shittin' in the morning, but another tired looking messenger boy he'll pity for being a bit older than he should be, which means you'll probably be stuck doing muck-work til you got nothing left to give and you're thrown away like last weeks rubbish."

Jack winced. "Grim."

Olle shrugged. "Way of the world. Point is, that cap and tabard make you all but invisible, as far as your fellow soldiers are concerned."

Samuel nodded, whispering final words into Jack's ear, slipping several coins into his hand. "And by all means, you can do what every messenger boy with a head on his shoulders has done since time began. Stop and use some of the coppers you were tipped for a drink and relax for a day or so, while you're in the city. Hell, if you were to head to the royal barracks and just return the horse to the stable master, and just be on your way, as if delivering a personal letter, no one would say a thing. After all, officers tip for private correspondence all the time, and who bothers with the lives of messenger boys?"

Olle grinned. "Who knows? Maybe you have a message for the college. Because there's no way they wouldn't take on a student who can pull his brothers back from the brink o' death."

Jack shared a smile with the pair of men. "Thank you, guys. Thank you both."

Samuel waved the words away. "It's we who should be thanking you, lad, and don't ever pretend otherwise. Because as much as I'll hate getting chewed out by the CO when he wonders how the hell you slipped away after seducing the captain, I'll be doing it on two good feet."

Jack frowned. "I appreciate this, guys. from the bottom of my heart. But what about..."

Olle shook his head. "She's far too important for anyone to give too hard a time. And if she plays the delicate lady swept off her feet card, what can the CO say? He'd never let her keep her captaincy anyway, even if she leads us better than that fool Captain Lindon, gods have mercy on his soul, ever could. Besides, it's not like anyone ever said you had to stay until someone with sufficient rank could force you to sign a conscripted serf's contract, now did they?"

Jack smirked. "They certainly did not."

Samuel shook his hand before helping him mount his horse. "Good luck, Jack, and don't worry. You have friends here."

Jack was suddenly too choked up to speak, the gratitude in his expression clear to both the soldiers as he waved farewell, their smiles equally bright. And then it was just him doing his best to wipe the bittersweet grin off his face and fall into character, sedately leading his horse to the gates, hoping he could win over the pair of men holding halberds at the ready.

Jack cleared his throat, but before he could say a word, one of the men winked. "Kind of late for messages to the royal barracks, ain't it?"

Jack smiled and shrugged. "I wouldn't know, I just deliver them, sirs."

The other patted the flank of Jack's mount. "We need more messengers like you, son. Willing to step up and do what needs doing." He then pointed straight ahead. "Go up the dirt path to the main road just fifty yards ahead. Then turn right at a steady canter for a couple miles, should be no problem with the full moon, and tell the gate guard you have a message for the royal barracks."

The other guard smiled. "When you get to the stablemaster, just tell 'em discretion's the word of the day when you drop off the horse and he'll just nod and smile, even if you walk past the barracks entirely, as too many captains and their intrigue flood the city, and they have apartments pretty much everywhere.

Jack bowed his head. "Thank you. Thank you both."

With those words he left the barracks at a sedate walk, the tension of unexpected trouble slowly easing as he made his way for the city ahead at a canter, surprised to see what looked like bright city lights from beyond the city walls. Lights almost as bright as those last seen a lifetime ago.

With infravision and moonlight used in tandem, he could have rode at an easy gallop, but did no such thing, blending in as any tired messenger might as he came to the still open city gate, guarded by a pair of tired-looking soldiers and a massive portcullis that looked like a monster's maw filled with sharp teeth that could so easily chomp down on any of them. And though no one was leaving at that hour, there was still a bit of carriage, foot, and wagon traffic entering with cursory words by guards, a few half-hearted inspections, and the clink of coin at least once.

When one of the guards dressed in half-helm and brigandine armor with a short thrusting sword at his hip gazed up at Jack, his furrowed brow immediately eased into a bored nod. "Hour's late, get some sleep, boy," he said, already waving Jack through.

Jack couldn't help but grin, letting his voice crack just a bit, as if he were closer to 16 than 19. "Once my job as done and not a minute before, sir."

The guard snorted, rubbing his bristled chin. "Like as not, they'll have you running messages all night. But at your age, you can't afford to slack off for a moment, can you? Not if you want a good master."

Jack forced a pained laugh. "Just doing my best, sir," he said, before heading through the open arch and trying not to look up at the massive grilled gate with its iron teeth that, with a single snap of a taught rope, could come crashing down on his head.

Only when he was through did he dare breathe a sigh of relief as his steed clopped upon the surprisingly smooth and uniform stone road, earning a couple derisive snorts when he asked for directions from a pair of colorfully dressed and clearly inebriated passersby. Nobles, Jack thought, if their fine burgundy doublets, hosiery and ermine cloaks were anything to go by.

He was quick to smile and be on his way before either could think to take offense, and this time when he asked a far more humbly dressed, though still tipsy looking man, the best way to the royal barracks, he actually got a helpful answer.

"Straight up Yancy road, your second left. You'll see it before too long, biggest cluster o' buildings outside the mage's quarter, and they're on the other side of the city."

Jack smiled and nodded. "Thank you, sir. Much appreciated."

The man chuckled. "I was once a messenger boy myself, before I finally got promoted to saber squad." He sighed, looking off in the distance, then shook his head. "The stories I could tell about the life of a lancer." He chuckled softly. "But now they have rifle companies. Even here, of all places."

Jack grinned. "Somehow, I doubt those will ever become a common sight, this far south."

The man shrugged. "They certainly are in the north. Just past the river, a few days away. And how long the Duke will actually be able to hold onto that land..." the man shrugged, then flushed, as if realizing who he was talking to. "Forgive an old man his wandering thoughts, lad."

Jack grinned. "Thanks for the directions, and your candor. Maybe one of these days, if I see you in the pub..."

The man laughed. "You buy me a drink or two, and I'll fill your ears with all the wisdom an old salt has on cavalry life. At least, as it was a decade or so back."

Jack grinned. "I look forward," he said with a final nod before making his way up to the royal barracks, taking in the sights and sounds of a gloriously vibrant city as he did so, admiring the softly glowing lamps his Magesight made clear was contrived by wonders far transcending gas or wick, showcasing ladies and gentlemen dressed in a wonderful collage of attire from high medieval to renaissance and beyond, with their colorful skirts, flowing dresses, doublets, vests, and multicolored leggings, with hats of felt or fur with feathers or emblems of flashing silver or bronze. A colorful collage of the well-to-do, taking their ease just outside numerous brightly lit taverns he'd almost call restaurants, taking up the first floor of fine brownstone stately brownstone buildings cleverly designed so as not to overcrowd. The boulevard itself was lined with both evergreens and flowering trees to assure a splash of green gave this part of the city both liveliness and class, no matter the season.

He heard the seductive siren call of more lively nightlife to his left, catching sight of a road leading off to a night market just beyond this central boulevard, seeing no shortage of the well-dressed alongside folk wearing simpler fare of linen and wool worn by men and women either working or enjoying what delights the night market had to offer the common man with coin in his pockets, perhaps carousing at one of the less well-lit taverns Jack could just catch sight of, beyond the province of this central boulevard.

His bemused smile turned to a tingle of wonder as he noted an abrupt shift in attire worn by the men and women around him as he made his way past the evening haunts of what he assumed was the mercantile quarter, heading past an ornamental gate and an actual guard, who smiled pleasantly enough as Jack passed through, heading ever upward along the gentle slope into what could now only be the noble's quarter of the city. Or at least the homes of those able to afford to live in exclusive walled manors that grew ever grander, along with magnificent lawns and gardens til one reached the magnificent peak of tudor-like construction, at least when they weren't built like outright palaces, all surrounded by wrought iron fences, the gilded bars assuring one always had a view of the magnificent garden beyond, and the wealth and status of the affluent folk dwelling within.

Because in this exclusive quarter of the city, lit up far better with magelights than the area below, the men actually wore long coats with top hats and walking sticks, dressed more like English lords from the 18th and 19th centuries than the renaissance era attire below. Even the air had an almost magical atmosphere to it, as did the warm smiles traded between elegantly dressed women and the men escorting them within the miniature park in the center of the Lord's quarter, so lit up with perfectly manicured shrubbery, rosebushes, and cherry blossom-covered trees that Jack thought it more an Elizabethan dream, an idealized English faerie wonderment, than any remnant of the mortal world just a few blocks past.

He chuckled softly, well and truly awestruck, amazed by the marvels that this city had to offer, for all that he couldn't help smiling at the almost antical excesses preferred by some, including the handful of private gated houses at least a handful of the well-to-do in the city had set up, as if to ape the duke himself with extravagantly uniformed gate guards standing at attention outside the manors with polished poleaxes no doubt more for show than use, Jack was sure, held in rigid grips as they gazed straight ahead, not even twitching an eye as Jack past the homes they were supposedly guarding.

And then at last his eyes were captivated by the most stunning sight of all, the palace itself. He wanted to whistle at the scope of the lush green courtyards just before the palatial gates with the wealth and influence on display, occupied as they were by an impressive number of elegantly filigreed and decorated carriages, their poshly dressed drivers sitting in silent attendance and near perfect stillness as their betters embraced the intrigues of court inside, he was sure, Jack only then noting the pair of less-than-pleased guards standing between him and the front entrance to the palace itself, glaring at him a bit too intently.

"What the hell are you doing, trotting through the noble's quarter, boy?"

For a moment Jack was stunned by the weight of his own stupidity, realizing his error only when it was too late. He was supposed to go to the barracks, on the far side of the royal palace. Not trot up to the front gate, where he very much stood out, like he actually belonged.

And if the wrong questions were asked, if anyone put two and two together...

Jack flushed, immediately lowering his head. "My apologies, sir. I didn't..."

The guard shook his head. "Backroads only, boy. You should know the rules. No doubt the house guards thought you were serving as a private messenger."

The rough-voiced guard shook his head. "I'll let it go this time, lad, as any infractions against you at your age, and you might as well hang your head in shame and leave the duchy. But don't go making a habit of it, understood?" He snorted, shaking his head. "You can stable the horse with the others. Return when you've delivered your letter to whatever lord or lady is pulling the strings of your master."

Jack swallowed and winced. "Yes, sir." His heart pounded as he eased his way off the horse, knowing he was taking a serious risk, but not sure he dared enter the palatial courtyard beyond.

Instead, he bowed low to the ground before both of the guards. "If you will both forgive my saying so, I actually do have private correspondence just outside the castle, best delivered on foot." With a second apologetic bow, he led his horse to the increasingly displeased-looking guard who had first spoken to him. "My master is not a patient man, I was told I could leave my horse with an understanding soldier... who should be compensated for his time."

The copper coins he passed with the reins mollified the man's increasingly grim features somewhat, though he still gave an angry shake of his head. "This time alone, boy. From now on, you stable her proper yourself, and if your master gives you any lip..." He flashed a cold grin. "You tell him it will cost him silver for any exceptions to be made."

He then gave an imperious whistle of his own, and a young lad wearing a plain white tabard immediately popped out of nowhere, racing across the ornamental drawbridge and grabbing Jack's horse without anything more than a nod for Jack and a flinch for the glaring guard.

Jack dipped his head, realizing only then just how perilously close to disaster he had come.

"Understood, sir, and thank you." He then turned around, and it was all he could do to keep his stride in check as he headed toward one of the side-roads the guard had pointed to. It was still nestled very much in the wealthiest quarter of the city, but just off the central boulevard, no doubt how servants came and went to the various manors, delivering supplies and pleasing their masters, while staying out of direct sight of the gentry's delicate senses.

Most importantly, it now kept him out of the guard's line of sight.