“Are you planning to ever speak again?”

We’ve been walking awkwardly through the city’s back streets for nearly an hour now, and she hasn’t uttered a single word. The chain drags between us, skipping over cracked cobblestone as a constant reminder of what I’ve done.

I’m not proud of it. Not proud of what I did to get that shackle on her ankle. I can only imagine what she aches to scream at me, what thoughts are echoing in her skull. I know how she thinks, so I know that she assumes it was all a ploy. Every touch, every word, every kiss.

And I wish it was. I wish I didn’t have feelings clouding my focus, my judgment. Wish I didn’t need her like I need to complete this mission. It’s exhausting, fighting every impulse telling me to explain why I did this. Why I have to do this.

My life is not my own. And, for that reason, she can never be mine.

As if it would matter. I’ve broken any and all trust that was built between us. And now I’m nothing more than what I had been before– her enemy.

She silently led me to where her pack was still hidden beneath the rubble of a crumbling building, and swiftly pulled a scarf from within it to wrap around her identifiable hair. I pulled a damp bandanna from my pocket to tie around the lower half of my face, reminding her that we’re both in danger if one of us is recognized.

She didn’t deign to respond to that veiled threat, and simply swung the pack onto her back and gestured for me to lead her toward a bath and bed. And that’s exactly what I’ve been doing for the past hour.

Thankfully, most of what we were swimming with in the sewer was the freezing water used to flush the tunnel out, but we are in desperate need of a bath and fresh clothes. Both of which will prove difficult with this chain shackling us together. But first, we find somewhere with a tub.

“I can’t imagine you lasting much longer without saying anything.” I sigh. The chain drags between us, scraping the ground to fill the silence.

She doesn’t bother looking at me. Her eyes are on the bare street before us, sparkling blue in the final rays of sunlight. I suppose I deserve her silence. Although, to her credit, I didn’t think it would last this long.

I turn us down a busier street, feeling the shackle bite into my ankle with the tension. Merchants are packing up their carts for the night, unashamedly running over the toes of anyone in their way. I head for the main market, feeling the chain tighten as I pull Paedyn, forcing her to pick up the pace.

The chain.

I stop abruptly, feeling her palms meet my back before her nose can. Turning to face her, she seems to be looking anywhere but at me. By now I’ve lost my patience, as per usual. My hand finds her jaw, gently turning her face toward mine. She smothers me with a stare that I do my best to ignore. “You’re going to need to steal a skirt.”

Her brows rise, the first sign of emotion I’ve seen from her since we left the grate.

“Don’t worry,” I say dryly, “I’m not asking you to talk. Just steal a damn scrap of fabric at the very least.”

“I’d like to see you try, actually.” She tugs my hand away from her jaw, seemingly surprising by the sound of her voice.

I crack a smile. “She speaks.”

Ignoring me, she throws her hands up in mock innocence. “I’ve put my thieving days behind me.”

I shake my head before glancing over my shoulder at the dying street. “Yes, you’re a saint. Now, unless you want to end up in a prison again, I suggest stealing something to cover up the chain that will draw plenty of attention to us.”

“And whose fault is that?” she asks, crossing her arms.

“You are,” I say, taking a breath before continuing, “an unbelievably difficult creature.”

She laughs harshly. “Maybe you should have considered that before chaining yourself to me.”

“Yes, what a complete oversight on my part.” I step aside, giving her clear view of the street. “Now go show me what you can do.”

“I already have, Prince,” she huffs, pushing past me. “When I stole from you, remember?”

Oh, I remember.

I trail behind her, watching as she peeks her head around the corner of the alley. I move to step behind her before her hand finds my chest, pushing me back without bothering to glance at me. I’m not used to taking orders, let alone being shoved aside. But I roll my neck, swallow my pride, and take a step back to lean against the wall and watch her work.

Several carts rumble by the mouth of the alley we’re standing in, but she stays still, not wanting what they’re selling. After several minutes, I see her shoulders tense, her body lean forward in anticipation. And then I see why.

When the next cart passes by, she doesn’t hesitate before stumbling into it. With flailing arms, she knocks a pile of colorful skirts onto the ground. If I had blinked, I would have missed the subtle kick as she tucks a skirt beneath the cart.

“I am so sorry, sir!” Her voice has jumped an octave, sounding innocent and ignorant. The merchant swears before looking up to identify the culprit. I fight the urge to break the man’s jaw when his gaze softens with each second spent greedily running his eyes over her.

“My fault, miss,” he says silkily, moving to brace a hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right? That was quite the tumble.”

“Much better now, thank you.” My eyes roll involuntarily. She bends to pick up the pile of skirts before placing them back onto his cart. “I’m just so embarrassed!”

“No need to be, my dear.” His hand is back on her shoulder, and I’m considering breaking it. “Say, if yer not busy right now—”

“She’s occupied, actually.”

Dammit. I just couldn’t keep my mouth shut, could I?

The merchant’s eyes meet mine, as though noticing me for the first time. He doesn’t bother responding, only offering a curt nod of understanding. With one last lingering look at Paedyn, he turns to continue pushing his cart down the street, oblivious to the skirt he’s left behind.

Paedyn quickly snatches the cloth from the ground before the man has a chance to turn around and see it. Then she steps back into the alley, raising an eyebrow at me.

“What?” I grind out.

She snorts. “Possessive, are we?”

“I chained you to me. What do you think?”

She ducks her head, smothering a smile as she begins unfolding the skirt. Lucky for us, the styles in Dor consist of breathable cloth made to wrap around the body. The skirt is nothing more than a large sheet of fabric adorned with a tie, making it easy for Paedyn to fasten on over her thin pants.

“There,” she mumbles. “I’d give you a spin, but I’m afraid the chain won’t allow it.”

I skim my eyes over her, taking in the hem of the skirt that pools around her feet to cover part of the chain. “Much better,” I say, stepping around her to examine further. “That’s a great color on you.”

I can barely get the words out without laughing. The skirt is dyed an atrocious shade of yellow, clashing with her tattered green vest and tan skin.

“You’re hilarious. Really.” Her dull expression matches her voice. “I’m glad I can amuse you.”

I run a hand down my face, attempting to wipe the stupid grin from it. Then I’m crouching in front of her, glancing up at her in question. “May I?”

Funnily enough, those are the exact words I uttered before ripping the skirt of the dress she wore to the interviews. Though, I’m not planning to repeat history at the moment.

I push the skirt aside to pick up her boot. I hear the beginnings of a protest before I start wrapping the excess chain around her ankle. She quiets, watching as the length of links shrink between us until only a foot remains.

I stand, dropping the flowy skirt to let it drape over the rest of the chain still separating us. “There,” I sigh. “It’s hardly noticeable. But you’re going to have to walk very close to me. Maybe put your arm in mine, convince everyone we’re a couple.” Her brows fly up her forehead. “Think you can handle that?”

“Do I have a choice?” she huffs.

“Good point.” I nod. “All right, let’s go.”

She lurches forward when I take a shallow step. “Easy, Azer,” she hisses close to my ear. The arm she folds around mine grows tighter in silent warning. “I’m wearing a hideous skirt and an ankle chain. Don’t push it.”

I pat her arm with my other hand, taking slow steps onto the street. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Gray.”

Saying her last name only reminds me that she doesn’t want me to say her first. It hurt, losing that privilege. Losing the right to something as intimate as her name rolling off my tongue. But I will respect her wish, keeping her name trapped in the confines of my mind.

After several stumbling steps, we find a familiar rhythm, our feet falling in time together. Merchants hurry past, paying us no mind as they rush home for the night. It’s not long before the street is eerily empty, and Paedyn is untucking her arm from mine.

The sun has slipped behind crumbling buildings, sinking down the horizon to sleep for the night. We walk silently through the shadows, following the street until a run-down inn towers over us.

I place a light hand on her lower back, guiding her toward the building. “Welcome to your bed and bath.”