He had been watching her for the past three days. She was smart, she found her way to the slums, a place where no one would recognize the traits that marked her as a member of the royal line this city loved. That was the only compliment that he give the girl.
When Maeve had sent him to collect the heir of Terrasen, he had expected many things, but not this. On his flight here he wondered how the girl had stayed hidden from the world for the past decade, but now as he stared at the princess he understood. No one in their right mind would mistaken this drunken girl as a princess of anything. He watched as she peeled herself off the roof.
He took flight towards the girl, it was time to go. He quickly prayed to Mala that she was not a talker, he was not sure he could handle a three day journey with the girl if she relentlessly talked. He walked down the alley and watched as a vagrant was claiming ownership of a specific section section of the alley. The look on the girl's face as she realized that she was being marked as a fellow vagrant was beyond priceless. He could not help the chuckle that escaped his throat.
Gods. A chuckle. Only after a significant amount of wine and in the company of Lorcan did he chuckle. Even in those moments they were forced. He watched as she quickly changed her stance and grabbed the hilt of a dagger. He was not in the mood to chase down the girl.
No one around them move. She continued to stare at him, the fear wafting off of her told him that she was deciding the best course of action. He had a feeling that the decision would have been made seconds ago if her brain had not been addled with days of wine and flatbread.
Something about the crackling embers in her scent, the wildness of them called to him. The sooner he got the girl to Maeve the quicker he could be done with her. The quicker he could return to Gavriel and the newest campaign.
“well met, my friend,” she purred, “well met indeed.”
Who the hell was she kidding?! She gracefully walked towards him, acting as if they had known each other for some time. He was not sure what she had been doing for the past ten years, but he could tell that she could read a crowd and manipulate. Something about that pissed him off even more.
“What a lovely surprise, I thought we were to meet at the city walls.”
Well this was one way to handle the on looking crowd. She had known that there was one of two ways for this to go and she wisely selected the easiest. “Let’s go.”
He did not have to look back to know if she was following him. She was loud and her scent was poignant.
As they saddled their horses, she broke the silence, “I’ve known a few brooding warrior types in my day, but I think you might be the broodiest of them all.”
He whipped his head. Who the hell did she think she was?
“Oh, hello. I think you know who I am, so I won’t bother introducing myself. But before I’m carted off to gods-know- where, I’d like to know who you are.”
He could feel his lips thinning. He decided to take a page from her book, “You’ve gathered enough about me at this point to have learned what you need to know.”
“Fair enough. But what am I to call you?”
It was a fair enough question. Plus he was fairly certain if he did not answer her, that she would create some gods-awful nickname that would cause him to want to rip her to shreds.
“Rowan”
“Well, Rowan,” that gods forsaken tone, he wanted to beat it out of her. “Dare I ask where we’re going?”
“I’m taking you where you’ve been summoned.”
To the Queen he sworn his life to in the hopes he would meet his death.