I suck in a breath as if I’d been drowning, sitting up quickly. My eyes dart around a back alley that is hazy and indistinct, not settling on any one thing but looking for... something. Something happened.

I dry heave as the wrongness and dread in my chest tries to suffocate me.

“Easy. Easy, mae tigris. Just breathe. You’re alright,” a voice says, one I know well and helps to ground me.

But it also brings a rising dread for reasons I don’t remember.

I look up, seeing the cloak and hooded visage of one I’d know anywhere.

“Silver,” I gasp.

He grabs both of my shoulders and makes me look at him. “What happened? I came as soon as I heard Ran.”

I pat my cloak, remembering something important being there. I slump with relief that the crazy lady didn’t get it. I don’t know what it is, I just know I don’t want her having it.

Ran plops down beside me, her tongue lolling out the side of her mouth in a wolf grin.

I give her a side-eyed glare. “Fine, you be happy. I just had my brain invaded and turned to mushy, slushy oatmeal. I need to bathe for a month to erase her imprint.” I shiver, feeling cold without being cold.

I sense Silver’s brows rising, seeing that his hood is up and I can’t see anything in the shadows but twin pinpricks of light where his eyes are. “That may be the craziest thing I’ve heard from you.” I hear the unspoken ‘which is saying quite a lot’.

I snort, easing to my knees.

I wince as my head pounds in a painful staccato. Jenny is going to kill me... not to mention Mom. They’re going to tan my hide. I promised to be careful tonight.

“You’re hurt,” Silver says, a touch of something in his voice I can’t place. Anger, maybe? Frustration?

“You try being mind controlled and not get hurt. I’m going to stab that lady. Again,” I add as an afterthought, grinning when I remember stabbing her the first time.

Silver shakes his head, a tiny smile pulling at his lips as he pulls his hood back slightly so I can see his face. “You’re not going to pass out on me, are you?” he asks, teasing. But I hear the concern lining his voice and feel the way his hands shake slightly on my shoulders as he helps me up.

“I’m fine,” I say, exasperated.

He pokes my ribs, and my body reacts by punching him in the face.

He moves his head just enough that my fist grazes his cheek. He chuckles, a sound that makes my toes curl.

No, stop it! I hiss at my body.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“No poking ribs. Noted,” he says, and he’s close enough I see the wry grin on his face as his eyes crinkle.

I was gonna apologize for punching at him, but that was before he teased me. I extract myself from his grip and hop up on Ran where she’d laid herself out on the ground, panting after the fight.

She stands, moaning about my weight.

“You’re going to be alright?” he asks, his silver eyes shining from the hood and searching my face.

I give him a smile I hope he can see beneath the mask. “I’m fine. Seriously. But thank you.”

He puts a hand on one of his blades, not in a threatening manner, but one of relaxation. “For what?”

“For dropping whatever you were doing and coming. For caring—” I cough, cutting myself off, my cheeks coloring beneath the mask. Didn’t mean to say all that. I must still be loopy from the blow to my head.

His eyes crinkle further and he grins. “You’re welcome.”

I wave at him as Ran darts into the night.

Aren’t you going to kiss him? I think it’s disgusting, but it’s what happens in all the best fairy tales when the handsome prince rescues the damsel in distress.

I groan and beat my head against her mane. “Would you stop listening to Jill telling those stories? They’re fake. And besides, he didn’t rescue me.”

You were unconscious. Surrounded by criminals.

“I didn’t need rescuing. I would’ve woken up in time.” I try again.

... That’s a lie.

Great. Thanks so much, Ran. I feel so much better.

I’m here to serve.

~~~

Archery. Tomorrow... actually… today begins my second favorite form of combat for the Prince Protector tournament.

Archery takes you away from the fight and gives you distance to pick off your enemies at will.

But toting around a huge bow and arrow on the back of a wolf... let’s just say it didn’t go to plan and leave it at that.

Ran snorts. What you mean to say is you got stuck on the string trying to dismount and decided it was too much of a risk.

I broke my wrist falling from a one-story balcony! I would’ve been killed if you hadn’t pounced on the idiotic drunk idiot who almost sat on me.

He wasn’t going to kill you. He just wanted to teach you a lesson.

By killing me with his stench! Why did he think sitting on a person would be a good punishment?

Ran crow-hops, almost throwing me from her back. Then she turns her head and sends me a stink eye.

I’m not talking about you. You sitting on things is terrifying. Him sitting on me—

Would’ve been terrifying.

...

Alright. So she’s right.

A moment in history! The great Guardian of Risia has admitted to her wrongdoing and vows to change.

I laugh, scratching behind her ear when she comes to a stop in Hans’ yard. I hop down, walking toward where I’d stashed my clothes in a hedge. “Alright, fine. You win. Sitting on people is fun, but I do not care to be sat upon.”

Somehow I feel how very still she goes even though she is many feet behind me.

I look back and find her eyes watching me as her tail twitches back and forth.

“Nope. Nope nope nope!” I take off, barely diving into the hedge before her maw closes inches behind me on branches and leaves.

She growls, shaking her head and spitting out brambles.

“Ah-ha! No sitting on me tonight, eh?” I say, pumping a fist.

She growls right outside my hideaway, pawing at the hedge. But she hates these things because they get all in her fur and she needs my help to get all the prickly parts out of her mane.

And The King knows I won’t do that if she sits on me.

I change clothes, seeing the moon rising high into the sky and feeling a ray of contentment.

I got something away from someone who surely didn’t need it and gave Rose back to Natasha. I roll the item that’s about the size of my fist in my hand, trying to see if there is anything on it that would make it valuable. It looks almost like a child’s ball, just more shiny. But there are no distinctive marks on it, which makes it even more of a mystery.

Even with one more mystery added to my repertoire, it was a good night. But I groan, thinking of the scant few hours of rest I’ll get. And the verbal lashing I’ll get if Mom sees me.

Ran, is there room in the barn for me?