The King's Cursed Bride

Paying the Price

Author's Note: Remember how we've been talking about couple names recently? If you'd like, I'm opening a poll on my website, so you can vote for your favorite couple name :) Feel free to add your own, if you think of any:  http://www.elizabethnewsom.com/blog/best-couple-name-for-viltus-and-carissa/

I'm looking forward to hearing your thoughts on this chapter!

***

Something jarred the wagon, and Carissa's head hit the jar behind her.

This most certainly wasn't the ideal way to travel, but with that strange man lurking around Zonah, it was her only option.

She stiffened as another bump jolted the wagon. A few seconds later, it rolled to a stop. The tarp lifted, and cool air ghosted across her skin.

"Miss? This is the place I told you about."

She sat up and blinked against the bright light. This alley looked familiar. She steadied herself against one of the clay jars and stood. Throughout the ride, she'd been tempted to crack the jar's lid open and have a sip of its fresh water. But that was how the boy earned his bread, and after he'd been generous enough to allow her to not only ride along in his wagon but also find a pub that could use an extra set of hands, she couldn't steal from him.

Speaking of bread... Carissa slipped a crumpled paper bag out of a pocket in her skirt and handed it to the boy. "I'm afraid it's not much."

He opened the bag and grinned. "Why, that's the tiniest loaf of bread I've ever seen."

Carissa ducked her head as a blush heated her face. It'd taken a quarter of the flour Viltus had bought to make that loaf.

"It'll do just fine. And I didn't expect anything anyways." He lifted his brown gaze. "Thank you kindly, miss." He extended a slender hand and helped her off the wagon.

Her slippers slammed into the cobblestone, and she wobbled a bit before righting herself. It seemed the wagon ride had turned her legs to syrup. "You're certain they would welcome my help here as a cook or a maid and not... something else?"

Color rushed to the boy's face as he straightened. "Of course not! I'm an honorable man. And if they even think about it, you tell them to talk to me."

Her laugh echoed down the alley, his words warming her heart. "Why certainly."

He nodded sharply and smashed his crooked hat back on his head. It was barely more than a flimsy piece of cloth. "Need anything else?"

She shook her head. "Nothing but a ride home in the evening."

"I'll be here, miss. Don't you worry." He winked and swaggered back to the front of his wagon. With a snap of his reins, his mare plodded forward.

Carissa's gaze swerved to the door. And then she remembered: this was where she and Viltus had hidden from the man chasing her. Panic squirmed within her chest. She couldn't work here, could she? What if the man came back?

She turned to call the boy, but he was already gone. She gnawed on her lip and peered at the door. Work, outside of being a nightwoman, was scarce for girls in Zonah. Very scarce. And with prices rising and wallets thinning as they were, it was unlikely there'd be any employment available at all in a matter of days.

She rested her fist against the door. And no one had seen her and Viltus sneak in, aside from the little boy. Though whether anyone saw them sneaking out was a different matter...

She lifted her hand and rapped twice.

A few seconds later, feet pattered. Then the door swung open. The little boy stared up at her, brown eyes widening. "What are you doing here?"