At dawn, Sun discovered three things.
First, caravan bread tasted even better when stolen back from hunger.
Second, Captain Brin snored louder than wagon wheels.
Third—
His coin pouch was gone.
He patted his belt twice.
Then checked again with the optimism of idiots and grieving men.
Empty.
Sun looked toward Varen, who sat beside the stream drinking tea he had somehow already prepared.
"My money is gone."
"You had money?"
"Emotionally, yes."
Varen sipped calmly.
"Then emotionally it remains."
Sun pointed accusingly. "You knew."
"I suspected."
"You said nothing."
"I wanted to see how long it would take."
Sun inhaled slowly.
"One day I will become strong enough to be unreasonable with you."
"Set goals."
The caravan was already packing. Servants rolled tents, guards checked harnesses, cooks insulted the sunrise.
Lady Samira stood near the lead wagon reading ledgers.
Sun approached.
"I've been robbed."
She did not look up.
"Welcome to roads."
"Helpful."
She flipped a page.
"What was taken?"
"Coin pouch. Few silvers."
"Sentimental value?"
"No, actual value."
Now she glanced up.
"Then mourn briefly."
Sun lowered his voice.
"There was someone on the wagons last night."
Samira's eyes sharpened.
"Describe."
"Red clothes. Slim. Smiling like theft was religion."
Captain Brin, passing nearby, snorted.
"Redshade rat."
Sun turned. "That a person?"
"A nuisance," Brin said. "Young pickpocket haunting the Blackstone routes. Too fast to catch, too smug to stab."
"Terrible qualities."
Samira closed the ledger.
"If it was her, she'll strike again before the city."
"How do you know?"
"Because professionals repeat success. Amateurs write memoirs."
Sun liked her more each day.
They broke camp and resumed the road.
By noon the trees thinned and traffic increased—farm carts, mule trains, pilgrims, mercenaries, one man trying to sell miracle onions.
Then the Crimson Inn appeared around a bend.
Built of dark timber with red-painted walls and a tiled roof, it stood beside the road like a rich liar pretending to be humble. Lanterns hung beneath the eaves though it was daytime. Stables smoked with activity. Laughter spilled from inside.
A carved sign showed a wine cup dripping scarlet.
Sun stared.
"We're stopping?"
Samira nodded.
"Fresh horses, hot food, guarded yard. Last decent inn before Blackstone."
Lucan Teryn perked up instantly from his wagon.
"At last. Civilization."
Brin muttered, "It's soup and walls."
Inside, the common hall was crowded and warm.
Steam rose from bowls.
Roasted meat scented the air.
Travelers shouted over card games and tankards. Serving girls moved like practiced storms between tables.
Sun nearly sat on the floor from happiness.
"Food with choices," he whispered.
Varen scanned exits instead.
Lucan swept in dramatically and claimed the best table without asking whether it was taken.
The previous occupants, three traders, relocated on principle of preferring life.
Samira rented a private room upstairs but joined the hall long enough to eat.
Sun, Varen, Brin, and two guards took a corner table.
Bowls arrived.
Thick stew, flatbread, pickled vegetables.
Sun tasted one spoonful and closed his eyes.
"I forgive many things."
Varen said, "Do not forgive too soon."
Lucan snapped his fingers across the room.
"Boy!"
Sun kept eating.
"Boy!"
Still eating.
Lucan stood.
"I mean you!"
Sun looked around theatrically.
"There are several disappointments here. Narrow it down."
The hall chuckled.
Lucan marched over with two hired guards behind him.
"I require a cleaner table. Move."
Sun dipped bread into stew.
"Then clean one."
Lucan slapped the bowl from Sun's hand.
It shattered on the floor.
The hall went silent.
Sun looked at the spilled stew.
Then at Lucan.
Then at the empty spoon still in his fingers.
His voice came soft.
"You wasted potatoes."
Lucan smirked. "Know your station."
Sun stood slowly.
Chairs scraped all around the room as people leaned back.
Brin sighed happily. "There it is."
Lucan's guards stepped forward.
One grabbed for Sun's shoulder.
Sun trapped the wrist, twisted, and used the man's own momentum to sling him headfirst into Lucan's chest.
They crashed together into a pillar.
The second guard swung a baton.
Sun ducked and punched the man in the throat.
The guard folded like wet laundry.
Lucan staggered up sputtering.
"You animal!"
Sun seized a loaf of bread from a nearby table and stuffed it into Lucan's mouth.
"Emergency silence."
The hall exploded in laughter.
Lucan clawed the loaf free, purple with fury.
"You'll die for this!"
He drew a jeweled dagger and lunged.
Sun stepped aside.
Lucan slid on spilled stew.
His own dagger sliced clean through the seat of his silk trousers.
Fabric fell open.
For one glorious second the future of House Teryn was visible to the common room.
Silence.
Then bedlam.
Tankards pounded tables. Men roared. A serving girl dropped an entire tray laughing.
Lucan screamed and tried to cover dignity with both hands at once.
Sun bowed.
"You've made yourself transparent."
Even Varen coughed suspiciously into his sleeve.
The innkeeper, a heavy woman with arms like carved ham hocks, stormed over carrying a ladle.
"No blades! No blood! Break furniture, pay double!"
She looked at Lucan's torn trousers.
"Embarrassment is free."
More laughter.
Lucan pointed wildly at Sun.
"I'll have him arrested!"
The innkeeper stared.
"For what? Improving lunch?"
Lucan fled upstairs wrapped in a tablecloth.
His surviving guard followed.
Sun sat back down.
Another bowl of stew arrived instantly from a grinning server.
"On the house," she said.
He looked up reverently.
"There is goodness in the world."
Later, as the hall calmed, Samira joined their table carrying wine.
"You made enemies."
"I made an audience."
"House Teryn remembers insults."
"So do potatoes."
She smirked.
"You're either very brave or poorly connected."
"Both."
She leaned closer.
"Then hear useful news. Lucan sent a rider ahead to Blackstone this morning."
Sun's smile faded slightly.
"For reinforcements?"
"For cousins. Which in noble families is worse."
Varen nodded once. "Expected."
Sun tore bread thoughtfully.
"Good."
Samira studied him.
"You enjoy danger too much."
"No," said Sun. "I enjoy seeing it disappointed."
That evening rain began outside.
The caravan rented rooms.
Sun and Varen shared a narrow chamber overlooking the stable yard.
One bed.
One chair.
One suspicious stain on the ceiling.
Sun checked under mattress, behind shutters, inside water jug.
Varen watched.
"Paranoid already?"
"Learning."
He sat on the bed.
Then froze.
Something hard beneath the pillow.
Sun lifted it slowly.
His missing coin pouch.
And inside it, a folded scrap of red cloth.
He opened it.
Written in neat ink:
You walk loudly.Try harder.—R
As he read, laughter drifted from the rooftop outside his window.
A woman's laughter.
Bright. Mocking. Familiar.
Sun rushed to the shutters and threw them open.
Across the rain-slick roofline stood the girl in red, hair whipping in storm wind, one of Samira's silver spoons dangling from her fingers.
She saluted with it.
Then jumped backward into the dark.
To be continued...