Mhazara’s step was sprightly as she wended her way through the cobblestone streets, not a merchant nor a marm paying the slightest attention to her when she passed. It felt wonderful to be functionally invisible after so many weeks spent under the thumb of Kenzian court intrigue. If Adrial knew she was out here, risking her cover and an assassin’s blade…
Well, the assassin wouldn’t know to look for her, would he? Not in her current physical comportment. Her disguise had been left at the castle, her escape most expeditious. Out here, amongst the citizens, she was blessedly no one.
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