Lorelei

I stiffened. My hood shadowed my face, but it was no use. He knew exactly who I was.

“Don’t call me that,” I said softly, though my hand tightened around the dagger at my thigh.

“Or what?” His crooked teeth flashed in the dim light. “You’ll stab me in the middle of my own stall? You think the market would protect you? They’d gut you and sell your hair for spell-thread before you could take a breath.”

I didn’t flinch, but the truth of his words burned in my ...