Chapter One: The Snowy-Haired Maiden

Analore risked a peek over the top of a barrel, ensuring that the brothel guard still searched the marketplace throng and hadn't seen her duck inside the fruit stall. She shivered in the chill morning breeze, which was fragranced with fruit and spice. Her eyes shot a desperate plea to the dark-skinned woman who’d stopped arranging her baskets and stared at her with fear and condemnation. The unplaited white-blond hair, skin unmarked by the sun, and low neckline revealed just what Analore was. A customer approached and the seller turned to greet him. Analore let out the breath she’d been holding.

            Her arms ached from carrying the laundry bag, trying to make it look no heavier than if it contained delicate silk garments. She pulled one of those garments free, tied it around her head, and tucked her distinctive locks into it. Dropping to her knees, she pushed the bag under the back flap of the merchant's tent and slipped under after it. A quick look around, and then she ran for the gate as fast as she could manage. The wagon waited for her just outside the city. She could see it, Sir Gareth leaning casually against the side while his driver faked a problem with the horses. She was almost there...

            Callaway stepped out from behind a wall, blocking her path. Caught. Her stomach lurched, threatening to disgorge her meager breakfast. The sallow bookkeeper raised an eyebrow. "Did you think Stanner wouldn't notice that someone had been in his office, or what was stolen? And after you so eagerly volunteered for the laundry run."

            Analore cluctched the bag to her chest. "I earned this." He was soft, paunchy. She knew she could overpower him, but she couldn't risk him yelling for the city guards. Her blue eyes flicked over his shoulder to the hedge knight's wagon. Will he wait?

            "Ah, yes, you're quite the stellar whore, it's true. However, there's a fee for leaving before your contract is up. And one for ensuring my silence regarding in which direction you fled."

            "I'll give you half, if you just let me…"

            He tsked at her and wagged a finger, a habit she despised. "All of it. We own you for two more years, my dear girl, unless…" He reached out his hand.

            She glanced again at the wagon. Gareth and the driver had climbed in and appeared ready to leave. She couldn't miss this chance -- stanner would make sure it never came again.

"Very well, it's yours." She threw the bag at him as hard as she could. He staggered back as it hit him in the chest and knocked the air from his lungs. She fled, sprinting through the gates toward the wagon as it started to move, screaming for it to stop. The driver reined the horses to a halt. Two sets of hands—one dark, one light—reached from the back of the wagon and hauled her up.

            "Go, go!" she yelled. The horses took off at a good clip and she looked back toward the gate. I'm free, she told herself, but the reality of it wouldn't sink in. All she could think about was the three years of earnings she'd just left behind.

            Sir Gareth looked back at her and smiled. "Well, boys," he said to the other three members of his retinue, "we've got ourselves a cook for the tournament season. And much longer, I hope." He winked at Analore, reminding her of the other part of their arrangement, negotiated during his last visit to the brothel. She had readily agreed, certain she could get away from him soon enough. As long as she had her earnings.