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She left the clothing stall with wool leggings, her first-ever pair ofnewboots, a few extra underclothes, and a black cloak that she might have splurged on a little bit. It was so soft and had lavender thread stitched throughout. Lavender pigment was so rare back home that she had never been able to afford cloth or thread of that color before.

She stopped by another stall to purchase cream and oils for her hair, more luxurious than anything she could have made at home. Just as she was reaching for her purse, Asher touched the back of her hand, the pressure feather light. Warmth spread from where his hand brushed hers and her stomach clenched as moth wings suddenly awoke, flapping inside her.

Asher had never touched her before.

He leaned in and softly said, “These look fancy, but most of the bottles are filled with air, not cream or oil. They will leave your curls dry and brittle at the end of the day. You’ll want to try those over there. I think you’ll be happier with the results.”

Lore followed his gaze to a small cart farther down the walkway. When she lowered her hand from her purse, Asher withdrew his own and stepped back to his usual spot behind her.

Lore didn’t want to think of the disappointment that coursed through her at the loss of his presence.

Two females owned the cart that Asher had indicated, and Lore was happy to see that not only was there more product in each bottle, as Asher had said, but she also got into a spirited and good-natured haggling discussion with the females. It was reminiscent of shopping back home. At the end of it, they even included a small woven basket for her to carry her purchases in for a single copper. For those brief moments, Lore hadn’t been painfully aware that as a human, she didn’t belong here. She walked away from them with a tightness in her throat and the urge to cry at the normalcy of it all.

Goods secured, Lore continued to an as-yet-unexplored part of the market. She was happy to continue shopping in silence, but there was something bothering her. Something she probably shouldn’t voice out loud. And yet, exhilaration was still thrumming through her from her haggling session, and she was riding that high.

“There is something I can’t quite wrap my head around, Asher. You willingly put on those vile blue stripes of your uniform every morning, and yet, you buy me damned delicious dumplings. And you encourage me to try a certain set of creams for my hair, ones that you think would make me ‘happier.’ I can’t seem to grasp how all these things can be true of one person.”

Asher blinked, surprise and then distrust flashing across his face. “I thought you would have realized that this isn’t my uniform.”

Lore stilled, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion. What didthatmean?

He looked around, seemingly remembering that they were in a crowd of people. “Follow me.” He led her to an alcove that held a small stone garden with a trellis and a bath for birds. Only then did he continue. “I only wear this because I volunteered to be on your detail. Arealsentry would have relished the opportunity to—”

“I know what they would have done,” Lore hissed. What did he mean by a “real sentry”? “Is this some twisted plan of the steward’s? Send a sentry and have you win my trust? Trick me for some vile reason I can’t even begin to understand?”

Lore froze. Goddess, what was she saying?

When he turned her in, she would be executed for her insolence.

But he didn’t react as she’d expected. He turned away. “I’m a castle guard from a low-tiered deerclan. A grounder. When I saw you being led into the castle, you looked so lost, and I knew they would eat that up. That something terrible would happen to you if one of them had been assigned to you.” Asher looked away, almost embarrassed. “So, I traded in my regular guard’s uniform for this one and volunteered.”

Lore didn’t know what to believe.

Should she trust that Asher had really volunteered to be on her detail to protect her? As far as she knew, there had never been even one iota of evidence that an Alytherian would go out of their way for a human, let alone be on guard duty.

Then again, the fae male standing before her seemed sincere, and she knew the ring of truth when she heard it. Gratitude swelled within her; if this was true, then Asher had done her a great kindness.

She clamped it down. The last thing she needed to do was put her faith in the guard whose job it was to watch her every moveand report back to the very person who held the well-being of her entire community in his scaly hands.

So she went back to her instincts, the ones she’d been honing her entire life when confronted with a sentry.

She lied.

“I believe you. I suppose I should thank you, then?”

“No, that’s not wh—”

“Because you’re right. My time here could have been a lot worse than it is. So, thank you, but let’s not speak of this again.” She looked around at the bustling marketplace. No one seemed to pay them any mind, but that didn’t mean she wanted anyone to overhear this conversation. Nobody needed to see them conversing this much. “What do you say we head to the library?”

Asher’s eyes shuttered and his face, which had seemed so animated before, became devoid of all emotion, like he knew she was lying.

But thankfully, he didn’t say another word. He just stepped behind her, taking his usual place as her shadow.

***

The steward was waiting for them in the hall by the library the next day. Lore kept as far back as she could from him, but still, the way his eyes roamed over her face made her feel small and inadequate. She glanced to Asher, who seemed unphased by the appearance of the steward. She relaxed a little.

“You aren’t working fast enough. Why haven’t you sent any tomes or scrolls to me?”