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Elide stepped closer. “No, thank you. I
wouldn’t want to trouble y-you.”
The female’s nostrils flared as Elide halted
close enough to touch them. No doubt
smelling the weeks on the road. But she
politely said nothing, though her eyes roved
over Elide’s face.
“Your friend’s name,” the commander
urged, her gruff voice the opposite of her
sister’s.
“Cairn,” Elide whispered. “His name is
Cairn.”
One of the males swore; the other scanned
Elide from head to toe.
But the two females had gone still.
“H-he serves the queen,” Elide said, eyes
leaping from face to face, the portrait of hope.
“Do you know him?”
“We know him,” the commander said, her
face dark. “You—you are his lover?”