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was fine, trade was undisturbed, and there was still no sign of the Graygual. It had few embellishments but left nothing out. The Hunter had intercepted a couple of letters before he stormed in a month ago and had learned Lucius’ style well. Almost frighteningly so. He bet the Hunter could’ve signed it as well without alerting the Captain.
    “It’s fine,” Lucius said softly.
    “Good. Now you may sign it and be on your way.”
    Tallos stepped behind Lucius and undid the rope. He then delivered a writing board so Lucius could carry out the Hunter’s instruction.
    A thousand thoughts flooded Lucius’ mind as he finished signing his name and approached the Hunter with the letter. His hands were loose and body primed, the desire to cave in the officer’s head so fierce it made his limbs shake. Adrenaline spiked as his heart pounded.
    Just him and the Hunter.
    He could be at the Hunter’s throat before Tallos could intervene.
    The paper quivered in the air as Lucius handed it over. His fingers tingled as the Hunter reached up for the document. The Hunter’s expression remained impassive.
    Lucius stared into those cold, dead eyes for one full heartbeat, daring himself to attack. Willing himself to rid this city of the ruthless officer.
    The breath gushed out of his lungs. He stepped back. Then dropped his hands.
    There was a reason the Hunter didn’t immediately have Lucius tied up again, or guarded tightly as he delivered the letter—his fighting prowess was unrivaled. Lucius had tried when he was in this situation the first time. Sterling had too, but to no avail. The Captain might’ve had a chance—maybe even Sanders—but no one else. The Hunter was on a level of his own. As long as he ruled this city, there was nothing Lucius could do to get them out of it.
    That didn’t stop him constantly thinking of possibilities, but it prevented him from needlessly attacking someone that would permanently injure him if he tried. Being a cripple wouldn’t help his city.
    That argument only mildly soothed the sting of cowardice.
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    A lena flinched as the guard grabbed her upper arm. She remained slightly limp, allowing him to pull her to her feet. Her face pounded from the slap, and her arm stung from scraping against the brickwork, but other than that, she was fine. She should be able to complete her mission.
    She gave Lucius a watery smile, wishing she could tell him to stop spending so much time dwelling on what was wrong with the city, and start focusing on what was right. Like that the Graygual thought the women were just as weak and useless as Lucius and the army men did. Or that the Hunter didn’t have a taste for the women of this city, or maybe for women in general, and wouldn’t let his guards partake either, unless it was consensual. That was a huge stroke of luck. Those two factors gave the women just enough wiggle room to be able to help.
    Hopefully. Otherwise, it might be just enough wiggle room to get them all killed. In a few days, when the Women’s Circle’s first steps to rid the city of these captors took effect, they’d know for sure.
    Her mind went to the tiny vial hidden in her bosom. Apprehension zinged up her spine.
    Alena filled her lungs with air and held on to the importance of her courage with two fists. It all began with her. Right here.
    The guard jerked her arm, the cue to get going. She swayed, taking two extra steps and forcing the guard to jerk her again, into the right path. After that he let her go, pushing her to get her to hurry up. She dragged one of her feet and let the force of the shove take her to the ground. Whimpering, she straightened slowly, playing up the wounded dove routine.
    She walked through the arch and into the Captain’s large dining room. Two Graygual, each with three slashes on their breast, leaned over their plates. Neither looked up as she passed.
    She tried to keep her body from going rigid as she entered the kitchen where Ragna stood at the large pot