Cinderella stood, gathering her basket from its position next to the settee. “Even so, I haven’t the time to slack. I should return to the market.”
“Have you told the Colonel?”
“About Julien?”
“No, about Aveyron being paid off.”
“Not yet. I was hoping to do so soon.”
“Good. I would also mention your settlement with Julien, if I were you,” Marie said.
“Why?”
“Colonel Friedrich strikes me as the…jealous type.”
“He once said something similar. I failed to understand what he meant then, just as I fail to understand your allusion right now,” Cinderella said, tilting her head.
Marie sighed. “You can bet somehow he will hear about the hour you and Julien spent walking, arm in arm, laughing and having an earnest conversation. It will soothe him to hear of the conversation from your lips.”
“If you say so,” Cinderella doubtfully said. “I’m not certain I’ll be able to see him today, though. It is the day of the Victory Ball. Much of the Army has either been invited to the party, or will be guarding it.”
“He will have enough time to talk to you. I promise it,” Marie said.
“I suppose I could stop in the First Regiment’s camp before I return to the market,” Cinderella said.
“Do so,” Marie said, escorting her to the door. “I am happy for you, Cinderella. You are doing well.”
“Thank you.”
“Best wishes in your encounter with the Colonel.”
“I will need it. Farewell,” Cinderella said, embracing her friend before traipsing down the stairs. She set off at a quick walk, humming under her breath as she trekked across Werra.
She walked down small streets, winding through one of the few residential parts of the city. Houses were smashed against each other like fish packed in a crate, but the occupants seemed happy. Housewives met to gossip while doing the day’s wash; children played together in the streets, and a few grandmothers crowded on someone’s porch, mending and darning clothes.
It was mostly Trieux folk who lived in this part of the city, but Cinderella knew three streets up was an Erlauf neighborhood. “I wonder if it looks at all different,” Cinderella said, turning around to look back down the street.
That was how she caught sight of her tail—a bland, harmless looking man. He hadn’t the blonde hair of a Trieux, nor did he have the dark hair of a man from Erlauf. He looked watery, with weedy hair and abnormally dark eyes. The oddest thing about him was his long, black cape and cowl. Fall would soon begin, but the weather was still hot, and the sun shone with enough intensity to make Cinderella sweat.
He stared at her, not bothering to hide his fixed gaze. He moved his arms, pushing back his cloak. Black jewels and rat pelts hung from a chain that swooped across his chest. As he watched Cinderella, he unhooked a black jewel and held it in a fist. He spoke to it, and black vapor rose from his hand.
A chill crawled up Cinderella’s spine, and the necklace Friedrich gave her turned as cold as ice.
Chapter 13
Her instincts kicked in, and Cinderella started running. She shot up the street like a rabbit, shooting between a swarm of playing children and dodging around carts, horses, chickens, and geese.
As she turned a corner, she glanced over her shoulder.
The man in the black cape wasn’t moving, but he was less than a block behind her. It was as if instead of running, he was moved to whatever location he desired.
Cinderella ran into another habited neighborhood, casting a terrified gaze around the streets. Where were her guards? Did they not follow her in the city? Cinderella generally didn’t bother to look for them when off Aveyron lands.
The First Regiment camp was too far away for Cinderella to reach before the black magic user caught her. She didn’t want to leave public sight—but she didn’t want to drag any helpless innocents into the fight either.
“Patrol point,” Cinderella huffed, skidding as she planted her feet and started running in a different direction. If Cinderella could reach a central patrol point—where all patrols for the area started and ended—there would be over a dozen soldiers stationed there.
Bless the Army for increased patrols, and bless me for memorizing their routes for library trips, Cinderella thought, risking another glance over her shoulder.
The tail was behind her, but on the corner she just skirted. He looked in several directions, searching for her.
Cinderella vaulted into an empty wagon tied in front of a house, and wriggled beneath a bundle of burlap sacks.
She held her breath and prayed her pounding heart wouldn’t reveal her as the black mage walked up the street, moving bonelessly.
His eyes skipped over the wagon, and Cinderella gasped in air when the mage was one street up.
