The woman frowns, looking at her book. “I hope you can forgive me. I only have the one room available, so you only need to give me ten. Don’t worry, there are two separate beds in the room—you won't be sharing a bed with your cousin.” She replies likely because of the horror that spreads across Cordelia’s face. “May I have a name to book it under?”

“Deely  … Countryway .” Her eyes trail from the painting.

“ Countryway ?” The attendant sighs. “At least give me a real surname if you're trying to pull the wool over my eyes. Not that it be any business of mine… business is business. Your room is on the second floor, 206.” She hands Cordelia the key once the thief hands her the money. Slightly embarrassed, she hurries up the stairs to the second floor.

Cordelia opens the door, feeling warm cheeks when she sees how close the beds are. The room wasn’t fancy, but it was better than the cabin. She sits on the bed closest to the door, sliding her cloak off of her shoulders.

The way his lips grin as his eyes remain on her is suspicious—she realizes she’s almost popping out of her deep-necked dress.

<Do you mind? You’re honestly not expecting to have a recreation of last night. That was based on a strict arrangement . >

<It’s not my fault you flaunt yourself so carelessly . > He raises an amused brow. <You’re lucky I’m not ill-mannered—the things I’d do to you—>

<That’s enough ! > Cordelia spits back. She can’t help her face reddening at the mention. <Do you not have any decency ! >

<You’re the one who forced a kiss on me—despite having a fiancé . > His smirk forces her eyes to narrow.

<Because you stole my stuff ! >

<I want to know the full story . > He sits on the edge of the bed, studying her face, changing the subject. <Why did you run away ? >

< … My parents were using me to settle a score . > She frowns. <That’s as much as I’ll say in the matter . >

<That’d make sense why a highbred like yourself made it so far from home. Were n’t you scared ? >

<Staying with them would have been much worse . > Cordelia crosses her arms. She could ask how he got involved in a mission like his—to assassinate a defenceless princess, but she’d rather not know.

<I apologize for my rudeness before—it was a stressful night. I understand we haven’t met under the best of circumstances, but if you let me, I can be quite an agreeable companion . > Instinctively, he leans closer, brushing his calloused hand behind her ear. She  … doesn’t mind… no, she does! He leans in, kissing her mouth tenderly. Cordelia melts into him—she can’t pull away. It’s not him she’s into—it’s the feelings he stirs within her.

He swiftly leans her on her back, the stare of her violet eyes burns her cheeks. She freezes when his hands reach beneath her skirts.

<What do you think you’re doing? ! > She protests; her face burning at his inappropriate touch.

<Relieving you of these ghastly undergarments . > He smiles when he hooks his fingers along the ruffles of her pantaloons, sliding it down her legs. She should have slapped him for his indiscretions—but she didn’t. She let him do it—just like a commonplace whore. She shivers when he leaves a kiss on her ankle, slyly moving upwards.

It’s when he reaches her knee she yells, <Stop ! >

Curious, he removes himself, poking his head from underneath her skirt. <But I hardly even started . >

<You shall not seduce me, thief . > She glowers.

<Oh, Deely, it’s too late for that . > His hand glides up her thigh; as she freezes, her heart beating wildly against her chest. <Your skin is smooth . >

Cordelia couldn’t talk when he lightly brushes the tips of his fingers against her inner thigh—her gut literally swirling in delight. Having his hand right there, it was exhilarating. But he doesn’t move it, almost like he’s waiting for permission.

She closes her eyes, almost detecting he had the decency to stop. At least if he kept going, she could blame him for his obscene actions. But if he asked—she’d be the whore.

<You look petrified . > He finally speaks as he retracts his hand. <I apologize if I overstepped . >

<But what was that nonsense of “it’s too late”? ! >

<It’s play . > The thief frowns as he leaves Cordelia in a heated mess. <Something to embellish the experience . >

So he didn’t mean to force her, despite telling her he was? What kind of play was that? All of this nonsense was hopelessly confusing. She scolds, turning on her side. <Play? Utter nonsense ! > She crosses her arms, angrily looking at the wall. How dare he stir such feelings within her and refuse to quell them? Or, was she foolish to stop him? She should have just said yes. Cordelia’s ears perk up when she hears the man take off the fabric of his clothes, her head angles to take a peek. His back is finely sculpted . She frowns when he turns around, noticing her stare.

<Do you expect me to sleep fully dressed ? >

<I wouldn’t be against it. It’d be more appropriate . >

<If you can’t handle how I sleep, it’d be best if you turn around . > He says, slipping off his knee-high trousers, revealing  – oh heavens! She covers her eyes before she glimpses at him.

<You ’re going to have a difficult marriage, Deely . > There’s a hint of amusement to his tone. <I will never understand why highbrow men prefer their women so innocent. It’s annoying if you were to ask me . >

Cordelia feels that was a statement directed at her.

<It’s a symbol of purity ! > She barely squeaks. <If your husband doesn’t know you’re pure, then how is he supposed to trust that the heir is his ? > It was an honest statement—and one that was drilled into her since birth.

The thief sighs. <If done correctly, the deed itself doesn’t have to hurt—or—produce heirs of any sort. By which I play testament to, as I have no kids of my own . >

<As far as you know of . >

<I’m not a scoundrel . > He narrows his eyes. <In fact, I only sleep with experienced women. It’s teases like yourself I find troublesome. One minute, you’re down and the next—you want nothing to do with me . >

Cordelia felt that jab was at her. <I’m an ordinary noblewoman who would expect higher prospects ! > She sighs heavily. <Just go to sleep, and we’ll forget this happened. You said we’re almost at The Sands, right ? >

<Right . > He turns away, his shoulders slumped as he turns on his side. He pulls the covers over his back and mutters something to himself in an incomprehensible language.

It was her turn to mope, twisting around in her bed. This dress was horrid to sleep in. Not to mention her pantaloons were on the floor—maybe she could unfasten her garments before the man noticed. Because if he did—boy, she would be in for it.

Cordelia takes off the thick wool blanket and pulls the ties near the crevice on her back, allowing herself to slip out of the dress easily. She folds it neatly over a chair. That just left her in her loose-fitting corset—much less restrictive on the body than in her mother’s day. Already feeling the awkward breeze of her exposed rear, she tiptoes around the bed to grab her pantaloons, quickly slipping them on. She undoes the pin holding her braided bun together, allowing her long (now wavy) blonde locks to cascade down her back. It was a natural occurrence for her to wear it loose to bed, but that would mean it had to remain that way. Cordelia always had a maid style her hair (her chambermaids had a high turnover rate—for no reason other than their incompetence). She worries that her hair might become a nuisance upon their travels, so she keeps the pin on the sleeve of her dress.

Despite the lumpiness of the mattress and the itchy wool blankets, she’s grateful that her feet are off the ground. She rests her head on the pillow, closing her eyes before drifting off to sleep—stuffing those nasty urges she has underneath the thoughts of her new life. What did her future look like? If she had the proper amount of  time, she would have settled for a plan to lure a wealthy man in—someone who could take care of her. He didn’t have to be handsome—but he had to follow direction. But she didn’t think of that plan and is now stuck with this thief—until he inevitably killed her.

Tears form beneath her closed lids as she grips the blanket. She had to breathe easy. Tomorrow they would reach The Sands…

She had to pretend with all of her might—she's now a noblewoman named Deely.