At Any Cost Read Online Free

Nothing remarkable. “Thank you,” she said, and pocketed the money. “Happy hunting.”
    Emalda disappeared on her mission before Maggie had a chance to ask how far would be too far to wander.
    Maggie wandered the aisles of open stalls, pushed through an alley, and emerged onto a broad street. Carts rushed past, clattering over the cobblestones, and people bustled past on walkways that were completely uncluttered by merchants and their wares.
    Too far.
    She was about to turn back when a flash of green caught her eye, bright against the dull browns and grays that most of the people wore. Another flash, weaving in and out of the crowd. She stepped closer.
    Soldiers. The hairs at the back of her neck stood on end as she watched the group move closer. The evergreen hued uniforms had changed little since the hundred-year-old paintings of the king’s coronation she’d seen in her books. Of course the colors hadn’t changed. The king himself hadn’t. She wondered what it would be like to live out one’s entire life under one king, to have generations of families knowing a single ruler. The governor of Belleisle might serve for fifty years if he pleased the people, but nothing like the century that Ulric of Tyrea had ruled.
    She wondered whether Ulric was as well preserved as her father, and decided that being a cruel tyrant probably took more of a toll on one’s appearance than a quiet life of teaching. A wretched, hunched old thing, I’d say. Malice and evil glittering in his eyes…
    The soldiers stopped on a corner and the crowd moved away from them, giving Maggie a clearer view. Middle-aged men, mostly, each with a golden crown embroidered onto his shoulder. One wore a patch over one eye, and another bore a thick scar that ran from cheekbone to chin, cutting a path through his thick beard. Battle-hardened men, these, the kind who would throw themselves in front of an attacker.
    The kind who would guard the king himself.
    Maggie stepped closer, trying not to look too interested.
    A broad-shouldered soldier turned to face her, and her breath caught as his gaze met hers. Cold eyes, dark and hard, searched her face. He scowled. Maggie wanted to run, and found she couldn’t. Couldn’t even look away. She stood frozen in the street like a mouse entranced by a barn cat, unsure of how to move or escape.
    To call the soldier handsome would have done him a disservice. In spite of his keen glare, she couldn’t help appreciating the strength of his clean-shaven jaw, the way his straight nose balanced the curve of his lips, the grace with which he finally turned away and released her from his stare. His thick, dark hair was tied behind his neck in a vain attempt at restraint, and she wondered whether the others with their thinning manes teased him for it.
    The group moved on, and she followed. Fear battled with excitement, setting her heart racing in a way that was far more thrilling than she’d felt in years. This was something interesting, something she’d barely even read about. Something forbidden. She glanced back to mark the path to the market in her mind, then slipped through the crowd.
    The king’s men moved with purpose, not stopping to speak with anyone outside their group. When they stopped again at a corner, cart traffic paused to allow them to pass. At the far side, the handsome soldier looked back again. She caught a breath and backed away.
    “Watch it,” an old man grumbled as she bumped into him.
    “Sorry,” she whispered, but he was gone. She looked back to the guards to see if any of them might be watching, and found that the group had moved on again. She squinted, but couldn’t see the striking one among them. The frightening one, she added, and felt warm with relief at having lost his attention. Perhaps this was why Emalda had warned her not to wander too far. No one needed trouble with those men, especially if the king were in town. To see where they were headed might have been interesting, but