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toward Ori—“you carry a sword marked with the Meloran crest on your hip. Meant yer either a guard or a deserter. Trouble will follow either way.”
    “My name is Ori, guardsman for the Duchess Aleana Melora of Eniva.” The guard relaxed considerably and examined the hilt of his sword. “I thought it was better to carry around an identifiable blade rather than none.”
    I stood, attempting to move past the moment of tension by extending my hand toward the old woman for the traditional royal greeting. As Muerra touched the backs of my fingers to her forehead, I finally offered an introduction.
    “I am Duchess Aleana. We are thankful for your help, but I must wonder why you were so willing to offer your home to us.”
    “I told ye before, I knew who ya were, Yer Grace.” Muerra looked at me with a warm glint in her eye. “Didn’ think it best to turn ya away. Make no mistake, I am honored to have ya standin’ in my house. Don’t suppose you’d tell me why those men were lookin’ for you and yer friend?”
    “I….” I did owe her an explanation, but I really did not know if I could form the words to tell her everything I had lost so recently.
    Ori stood beside me, placing his hand on my shoulder, and I silently thanked him when he picked up the retelling of the story.
    “Traitors attacked our convoy alongside Dakmor’s soldiers. I was only able to pull the Duchess to safety because the soldier going after her was briefly distracted.”
    Distracted. The word caught in my mind, pulling up memories of the attack and forcing me to re-watch Surea’s death. I swallowed the lump in my throat and struggled to keep my voice even as I addressed Muerra.
    “Can you tell us anything about Eniva? Has the castle fallen?”
    Muerra saw the tears forming in my eyes. “Oh, ya poor dear, you’ve certainly had a rough time, haven’t ya? I’ve heard nothin’ of Eniva, but I don’t keep up with the latest tavern chatter. You should know, though, yer welcome here as long as ya’d like.”
    I managed to keep the tears from falling. “We should not stay long. But if we could sleep here, just for the night, it would be greatly appreciated.”
    “Of course, of course.” Muerra began shuffling around the room again, pulling blankets out of places I did not even realized existed in her small home. “Milady, ye can sleep on my mat. It’s not the best, but it’s better than this dirt. Boy, you can sleep by the fire. You’ll be warm there. I can sleep on a bed of twigs, and this ground ain’t much better than that.”
    Ori seemed content and began eyeing the space by the fire, most likely trying to decide how he could position his body around all the furniture in order to sleep comfortably. I eyed the small mat suspiciously, imagining what kind of vermin could be inhabiting it. Realizing the unease had spread across my face, I composed myself and took one of the blankets. Stretching myself out on the lumpy straw mattress, I was grateful it did not smell too much of mildew. At least it was better than another night spent on the hard ground with a blanket stitched together from rough burlap. It wasn’t entirely comfortable, but it was better than nothing. By the time I shut my eyes, Ori’s snores were already threatening my sleep.
     
     
    “F ORGIVE me, but the less we tell you, the better.” Ori’s sword was already belted around his waist.
    Muerra had wondered where we were going, but as Ori had told her, she did not need to know more than what she had already been told. It wasn’t a means to protect ourselves as much as a way to keep her safe should the Dakmorans find out she had helped us.
    “I’m one of the lucky ones, enough food for myself, with some to spare.” Muerra handed over a sack of food to Ori as we prepared to leave, letting him stash it along with our other belongings.
    “Thank you, ma’am.” Ori tucked the food into his pack and then added, “For everything.”
    “For the last time, boy, stop