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What was going on? She had to figure it out.

Think, think, think.Why would the mayor offer money, even in deceit?

Just as an idea filled her with dread, James pushed his way into the center of the crowd. He lifted the blade with a grunt and took up a sparring stance. When he swung, the blade sliced with force, but wavered. He took a moment to recenter and began again, moving with more confidence and balance this time.

Grace mourned the improvement, because if she was right, the last thing she wanted was for the Rogue to do well at this or any other event in this competition. She’d just realized there was a chance the mayor was using this competition to reveal the identity of the Rogue.

The gold and the forced attendance. That was the key.

Why would the mayor dangle gold in front of people? Because the original Rogue had robbed the tax coaches and gentry homes. He’d taken from the mayor and the well-to-do and given to the struggling. Could a noble-hearted servant of the peoplemiss out on the opportunity to return to the people what had been taken from them, especially when he thought he could do it without threat of arrest?

But it was the forced participation that had Grace convinced. Every Fidaran was here, in this square. That meant the mayor could be sure the Rogue was also here. Anyone sneaking off to don a verdure cloak could be detained and questioned. If he wasn’t seen until he arrived in full disguise, all one had to do was search for the missing face. There were still too many citizens for that to be easy, but there were enough supporters for the mayor to rely upon that it could be done.

This was a trap.

Surely, James would be smart enough not to attempt to slip away. The question was, how dangerous would it be for him to win as himself? Talent in the physical arena alone didn’t make someone the Rogue.

Then again, with the manic way the mayor was acting, who knew what they could expect from him? Watching James attack the dummy, her heart raced. Today, his technique, thank the heavens, left much to be desired. When he finally dropped the sword, panting in exhaustion, Grace let out a breath she’d been holding unknowingly.

Russell took up the sword next and performed a short, but surprisingly smooth display of swordsmanship. He was gaining that farm-earned arm-strength. Finishing with a dramatic bow, he strode proudly to Grace’s parents. They smiled at him, but in their eyes, Grace saw the misgiving. She didn’t know if they’d come to a similar conclusion, but they felt the danger, just like her.

The Stanton boys dashed out immediately, fighting over the sword as their parents clucked at them anxiously. The older, Cyrus, won out, and Jesse pattered to his parents, waiting his turn. Cyrus was Russell’s age, but had the large frame of hisfather. He did well, despite being even less trained than Russell. The younger brother barely managed to lug the sword a few times.

Every few minutes, Grace flicked a glance at James, the mayor, or the sheriff. It was hard to tell if there was anything to worry about. James showed no more emotion than when she’d first spied him, and neither of the other two men even looked his way.

“Another!” the mayor cried.

Beside her, Garrick sighed, then made his way through the crowd. Without a word, he moved to the thick sword and lifted it with minimal effort.

“Ahh, Mr. Clairmont. Your cooperation is admirable. Begin.”

Garrick raised the sword and took a strong stance. Grace found herself focused on the presentation rather than checking on James. She couldn’t help hearing Lizzy’s words as she watched the slick motions of Garrick’s attacks.

He’s got quite the lean, defined muscles, that one.

Grace felt her neck and cheeks splotch as her eyes drifted to Garrick’s arms. She could see the bulge of muscle pressing against the cloth of his tan shirt.

When Garrick dropped the sword and made his way back through the crowd to stand by Grace, she pulled her hat a bit lower and rested her hand on her neck, trying to keep him from noticing her visible blushing.

“Well done,” she muttered.

Grace felt very aware of Garrick beside her, of the arm she would be touching if she took a single step to the left.

Eventually, the mayor tired of urging people into the ring and led the citizens to the footrace, which proceeded in much the same way as the sword fighting.

A few dozen people joined in the competition with true effort, Russell and the Stanton brothers included. Then the mayor began calling for more participants.

Grace kept watch on James throughout the races, though she tried to be subtle. Eventually, though, Garrick seemed to take notice. He turned to look at her, but Grace refused to meet his gaze, guilt burbling. She couldn’t tell if it was because she’d been flirting with Garrick or because he’d caught her staring at James.

Moments later, he walked out onto the track, and James joined him.

Grace winced. At the starting call, the men raced around the track. It seemed like Garrick would win as they rounded the last curve, but then James sent a sneer Garrick’s way and charged ahead at full speed, coming in seconds before him.

James, she realized, must have noticed her closeness to Garrick throughout the day. Was he jealous?

Next came the climbing. The same people who’d raced tried the climbing, each citizen having decided by now whether the mayor’s bribe made participating worthwhile.

Grace was shocked to see that Russell was more adept at climbing than she’d expected. He scaled the trunk in a couple minutes, not quite as agile as Grace imagined she could be if she’d wanted to let the town know how skilled she was at climbing, but it was impressive.