Cordelia flushes at the implication—these two have slept together? She wants to hide under the silk satin sheets once more to cover her embarrassment, and now, shame. She had lain with a taken man. God, she was officially a mistress!

<Don’t give her the wrong idea—it’s bad enough that her own kind had filled her head with horror stories about sex—>

<That was meant to be confidential!> Cordelia raises her voice. It was her own fault for being so open with the man in her first place, but that didn’t give him the right to share what she had told him!

<Yeah, confidential.> Freydis goads.

<He also didn’t tell me the two of you were together.> Cordelia narrows her eyes at the thief.

She jumps when Freydis bursts out into laughter. <You’re kidding—god, Radjerd and I have a run in here or there but we haven’t been committed to each other in years!> She drapes an arm around the shirtless man; Cordelia only realizes how tall the woman is compared to the thief, standing only a few inches below him. She pats him on the chest. <He’ll always be my number two.>

He lets out an unimpressed thanks.

<If you’re really into him, he’s all yours. I’ll keep my distance—I understand you Weltish types are quite traditional with your partners.>

<I have no claim on him!> Cordelia hotly announces.

<I see, maybe I was wrong about Weltish women then. I have to say, I’m impressed. Maybe the three of us could have some fun, or—I could make things more interesting and boot him out of here.> She winks again.

As intrigued as Cordelia was with the woman’s proposition, she holds her ground. <At the moment I’m impressed with neither of you.>

Freydis smirks in response. <How hoity. I got to say that’s kind of hot.> Cordelia doesn’t ignore the glance she shoots in the thief’s direction. He smiles, agreeing with her.

<As fun as the banter is, I have to ask. What are you doing here? I thought I was the one who was instructed to infiltrate Wellspring?>

<You took too long. Radjerd, unlike you, I’ve been surveying the area instead of banging my brains out.> She crosses her arms. <It turns out the Princess has been kidnapped—and not by one of our hands.> She shakes her head dismissively. <Damn Delteans got to her first I bet.>

God, another faction was after her?! Cordelia debates sliding under the sheets. She could vomit with this newfound knowledge…

<I told you I was handling it. I found Deely at a tavern and she agreed to help me since I can’t speak Weltish. She said she'd help me find the princess.>

<Is that your name? That sounds delightfully common for a treasure such as yourself—> She pauses unexpectedly. <Radjerd, where did you find Deely?>

<I just said, at a tavern inside the Wellspring Gates. Why?>

Freydis eyes the girl up and down. <A virgin blonde named Deely… Something doesn’t sit right here.> Her warm sea-blue eyes turn cool when she lifts the sheets from Cordelia’s waist. <The way you’re gripping that blanket doesn’t ease my suspicion.>

Cordelia peeps.

<Where are your clothes?>

Cordelia points to the mound on the floor—which Freydis delicately picks up. <What a luxurious gown you have.>

<It’s only a day dress—> Cordelia slips out before slapping her hands over her mouth.

<God.> She presses her fingers between her brows. <Radjerd…>

<Look, she had a bag of goods on her person. I was bringing her to The Sands, and we’d have been faster if Deely didn’t take her sweet time around the knights.>

<I swear, you’re as handsome as you are stupid.> She frowns deeply. <Sweetie, the only reason you’ve lasted as long as you have is because our dear comrade is incompetent.>

<I don’t understand…> Cordelia speaks quietly.

<I think you do.> She raises an eyebrow. <Not that I blame you. If I were in your shoes, I’d do any favour to stay alive.>

Her steel-blue eyes vibrate in fear.

<What do you mean, stay alive?>

<Who you found isn’t Deely, it’s Princess Cordelia.> She says with an accusatory tone. <And like the moron that you are, you brought her to a public place. We can’t do a damn thing to her here, or we’re fucked.>

<The Princess?> He says in disbelief. <No, that’s impossible. I would have known.>

<No, you wouldn’t have.> She rolls her eyes.

<He’s right, I’m not the Princess—I’m some noblewoman who ran away from home!>

<Don’t try to pull the wool over my eyes, I’m no fool.> Disappointment laces her stare. <Although it’s a shame, I was excited to steal you away from Raddy boy…>

<Why wait?> Cordelia in panic slips out of her shift, <You said yourself that I look tasty, so taste me!> This was the most uncharacteristic thing she had ever done, but she was desperate.

Both Freydis and Radjerd gawk at the bare Princess, only partially covered by her long hair.

<Honey, your desperation makes it even more obvious that you’re who we're looking for.> She shakes her head.

<No—I’m just a common mistress, that’s how I make a living!> She's grasping at straws.

<It’s not.> Freydis parts Cordelia’s hair so it covers her exposed breast. <I’d spare your life if I had any other choice, but Radjerd and I lived in poverty way too long for us to ignore your existence. You’re too valuable to us.>

Tears well up in the Princess’ eyes as her lip quivers. She had humiliated herself—and was scheduled to die. Freydis hands her the shift she had thrown on the ground.

<Wait, how do you know she’s the Princess?>

<Arranged marriage, fancy clothes, the fact that she said her name was Deely, evasion from the knights—may I go on? I’m sure if I looked in that fancy satchel of hers that I’d find some delightful treasures too.>

Cordelia slips her shift back on as the two converse, her tears momentarily blinding her. She knows they weren’t much use. If the thief named Radjerd wasn’t going to kill her, Freydis would. Cordelia surveys the room, eying her best possible opportunity to escape. A large window was positioned near the back of the room, barely covered by satin red curtains. The candleholder on the dresser looked like it bared weight—she could use it to escape she acted now. Taking a leap of faith, Cordelia bolts in the direction of the dresser, Freydis catches onto her plan immediately. The tanned woman yells at Radjerd to stop her, but his violet eyes stare in confusion—he believed Freydis but he couldn’t bring himself to attack her. She curses, almost grabbing the girl’s ankle. Cordelia takes the brass candleholder and smashes it against the window, it hardly makes a dent—impossible! It was her unfortunate luck that the glass was so damn sturdy.

Cordelia had little chance—she had to do whatever she could to escape. Closing her eyes, she charges shoulder first towards the window—she had to try. Her long, gorgeous hair would be her downfall—she’s yanked backwards, instantly restrained as she musters the loudest scream she can. She’s quickly muffled by the woman’s hand. She flails under Freydis’ grip, but the woman was too strong. Radjerd pauses, paralyzed in confusion. Freydis muffles under her breath as she pulls out her knife—she was going to make quick work of her.

<Come here and help me—she won’t stay still!>

Cordelia’s pleading eyes aren’t lost on the man who stares helplessly at the situation. Gritting his teeth together, he turns away.

<Help me, now! We’ve worked too hard to fail!>

Cordelia wouldn’t make this easy. She flails her legs, irritating Freydis’ position.>

Cordelia’s muffled scream vibrates against Freydis’ hand when she forcibly inches Cordelia’s chin up, the cool tip of the blade is felt beneath her chin. Holding her neck in place, Freydis angles her wrist to make the sweeping cut against her throat—no, she falls limp on Cordelia’s chest. Radjerd lifts Freydis off of the blonde.

<My spell will only work for a short time, we got to go before she wakes up!> So the woman wasn’t dead… Radjerd takes the candleholder Cordelia previously used and smashes it against the window three times—it barely cracks. Using Cordelia’s idea from earlier, he chucks his shoulder into the glass, it cracks more. He tries again as Cordelia is silent from shock; feeling the harsh impact of the large glass window break before he helps her through the remains. He lifts her up, sprinting towards the first instance of cover they can find.

It was her only chance at survival.