“You seem lost.”
She prevented a scream. A man stood right behind her, towered really. He wore a cloak with a hood he’d pulled down over his face. Just like her.
“Yes… I was heading to the temple.”
“I’m going there myself; shall I guide you?”
“That’d be really kind.”
He offered his arm in a courteous manner. When he placed his hand over hers, she shivered.
“How long have you been in the city?”
“Only a few days.”
He spoke to her at length, as they strolled across the streets: here was the jewelry district. Farther down the fish market. And on the upper slope of the hills the cloth market and its guild, the most powerful in the region.
In an hour, they arrived at the temple. She turned to her guide.
“Thank you Sir, you’ve been most kind.”
“It’s always my privilege to assist a beautiful lady.”
She smiled; he hadn’t seen her face. Ezariah thanked him again. As she stepped away, she noticed armed men entering the square. Fear coursed through her: they couldn’t know she was here. He lifted his hand. They stopped. She curtsied deeply stumbling over her apologies.
“Your Highness. I apologize for my rudeness.”
He didn’t pull his hood; and he spoke low.
“Don’t. I enjoy coming here unnoticed. Pray tell where you’re lodging. My men will move your possessions to the palace forthwith.”
Here was the man she’d come to destroy. He wasn’t what she’d imagined.
In response to Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie’s Saturday Mix prompt