My brain is jarred out of my dream and my head jolts in pain. I open my eyes to Barrow's hands on my shoulders, shaking me.

I shove his hands away. "Keep your hands off me."

"Where's Roger? What did you do to him?"

"What? Nothing."

He towers over me. This man. . . "He's not in his bed."

"Downstairs maybe? Last time I saw him, he was going to get me a blanket."

"What blanket?"

I look down at my lap that's only being cover by my cloak. "He went for it before I was asleep."

He curses. "He never came back then." In seven strides he crosses the room. I quickly stand and follow him. The stairs creak as we descend them. The tavern is empty, the tables arranged back to their previous spots.

Barrow yanks open the door and swears. I run the rest of the way and freeze in the doorway. The transport vehicle is gone.

I step out onto the deck. "Did he desert?"

Barrow doesn't answer. Instead he walks around the building. I follow him.

Barrow lets out a string of curses. My feet move faster, but my heart stops once I see Roger sprawled on his back, dead. His eyes are open. Blood is dried in streaks on his head. I cover my mouth and close my eyes.

"What did you do to him?" Barrow grabs hold of me. His fingers dig into my muscles.

My eyes pop open. "How can you think I did this?"

"To get away. Return to your rebels."

I take a step toward him even though he's already far too close to me. The good are always the ones to die. Roger was one of the sweetest people I've met my whole life. Yet Barrow is the one to live. "Don't you think that if I wanted to escape, I would have killed you? Or if I had killed him, I wouldn't have returned to the room?"

"This is your fault."

I shove him. "I was asleep just like you."

"He went to get you a blanket."

"A blanket I didn't ask for!"

"If you hadn't acted so selfless you would have taken his bed and he wouldn't have had to get one for you."

I get torn down for being selfless. Everything I do is wrong to somebody. "If you had given me your bed and slept on the floor we wouldn't have had to worry about Roger going to get me a blanket. I simply sat down on the floor. I didn't complain. But you"-- I jam my finger in his chest, --"have done nothing but complain." I swallow. "Besides, I ran from the army so I wouldn't have to kill anyone. Are we going to waste time arguing about something I didn't do?"

"What else are we supposed to do?"

I motion to Roger. "Find who did this."

"We never will. They're long out of Crena."

They won't ever pay. Roger's death won't ever be appeased.

"So we do nothing for him?"

"If I didn't have to take you to jail for your mess-ups maybe I could actually hunt down whoever did this."

"I didn't mess up. I took someone else's punishment."

"Again with being selfless. Look what it's done." He walks past me—our backs now to each other. "I hope you die there."

My chest rises. My hands ball into fists.

"I'm going to check about getting another vehicle."

"What about the diplomat?" I ask.

"What about him?"

"He was supposed to meet us."

"How stupid are you, Raksana?"

I cross my arms. We are wasting time. "Enough to get me stuck with you."

"He's meeting us there in Quill. Stay here."

I'm tempted to look at Roger, but I keep my eyes upward as I turn around. "How do you know I'll stay?"

He looks at me over his shoulder. "Because if you don't, the rebel dies." He heads down the street, and I watch him until he's out of sight.

I walk back to the front of the club and sink onto the steps. Why am I the person who's stuck with this? I hold back the tears that gather in my eyes. Because I'm the only one who would have saved Nate.

Roger. . . I feel sick in the stomach. Is it really my fault? He wouldn't have been here if they weren't taking me to Quill, but then Nate would be dead if they weren't. I rub my face and hiss at the pain that erupts. Do I dare ask Barrow to take me to a physician in this town? I really am concerned that it will become infected. Also I apparently look like a monster. There are still my lash wounds to tend to that lacerate my back.

I look out over the street, watching people laughing in their conversations and men holding the door open for ladies and not slamming it in their faces.

Twenty minutes later a transport vehicle parks in front of the club. Barrow hops out. "Grab my bag from upstairs and we'll be on our way." The insolent. . .

"Why not you?"

"Because I don't trust you with the vehicle."

We argue for a minute before I relent to retrieve his belongings. When I return I lightly toss the two bags I found at his feet. One of the bags belonged to Roger.

"Before we leave I require you to take me to this town's physician."

He laughs.

"I'm perfectly serious."

"No. I don't care if your face rots away. My job is to take you to Quill. The king never specified in how many pieces."

I swallow, my heart clenching. "I'll explain to the diplomat how you used my father's money to pay for a room and took the bed and forced me to sleep on the floor. Also how you wouldn't buy the dinner for me that my father gave you money for. But I can remain silent if you do this one thing. I know you want my life to be miserable. I'm going to be spending two months in our enemy's prison. My life's going to be miserable enough. Please."

"No."

I close my eyes inhaling and exhaling. When I open them I say, "You've made it clear that I'm not your princess, but my brothers and sisters are princes and princesses to you, and they care about me. The king may not care of my condition in the diplomat's report, but you can be sure my brothers and sisters will."

"Fine, but you don't breathe a word of who you are."

We locate a physician's office and park the vehicle which is different than the old one. There's only room for the two of us in this vehicle.

A young man appears. He must be in his mid-twenties. His brown hair is slicked back and he stares at me. I still have no idea what my face looks like now.

Barrow slaps a hand on my back and I wince. He pushes me forward. "She needs a few things looked at. Please call for your physician immediately."

The man scratches the back of his head, messing up some of his perfectly neat strands of hair. "I'm him."

"You? You don't seem old enough to have even graduated."

"I assure you I have. I'm Doctor Colm." He gestures with his hand to a door behind him. "If the lady would step inside."

I nod as I pass him, and he and Barrow follow me inside. He picks up a thick square of fabric and hands it to me. I let the ends fall and watch it become a robe.

"I'll give you a minute." He leaves taking Barrow with him.

I clutch the robe to my chest. He could tell me my back is infected. They can't exactly amputate that. I drop the robe on the examination table, a simple table with a tan cloth laid over it. Wincing I pull my tunic off, but leave my leggings on. I grab the robe and tug it on in a way that leaves the open part in the back. I tie it.

Depositing my tunic on a chair in the corner, I open the door, and the two men walk inside. I bite down on my cheek to keep my mouth shut.

"Sana, is it?" the physician asks.

I hesitate before replying, "Yes."

"Please take a seat."

The table is hard and seems sturdy. Once I'm seated the physician joins me at my side.

He examines my face but doesn't touch it. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"I fell."

"Must have been a pretty nasty fall."

"Yes."

He runs his finger down through the air above my face. "This looks like a lash mark."

"That was from a punishment."

He frowns and walks to a desk placed underneath a set of cabinets. "I'm going to clean it. It looks like it's close to becoming infected." He withdraws a bowl and a brown glass bottle. He pours its contents, a clear liquid, into the bowl. "We could do cryro-surgery on it."

"No," Barrow says without hesitation. It's not even an expensive operation. 

Grabbing a towel Doctor Colm sets them on the examination table next to me. "This may hurt." He presses the towel with the medicine to my face causing my skin to sting. I grit my teeth.

When he's done he sets them back on the desk. "Did you want me to look at anything else?"

"No." Barrow holds open the door. "That will be all."

"Yes, there is something else. My back."

He glances at Barrow before looking back at me. "Of course. You can leave your robe on but could you untie it in the back and lay down?"

I nod, positioning myself and tugging at the string. I feel the fabric slide over my skin, caressing it. I look at the wall even though it hurts my face. I feel uncomfortable with this situation.

"What are these bandages covering?" I feel his fingers touching them.

"More lashes."

"I need to remove them."

"All right."

I wince as they're peeled away. Barrow breathes in sharply. Doctor Colm doesn't say anything after they're all the bandages are off of my back. How bad can they be?

"Doctor?" I ask.

"Who. . . who did this?"

"The soldier that was told to."

"Why?"

"As a punishment."

"A punishment for what?"

I close my eyes and see Nate's face--bloody. For him. "I spoke out of line."

He sighs. "I'll clean them immediately."

I hear the floor squeaking and cabinets opening and closing. A cold towel is pressed to my lower back, and I bite my lip to keep from screaming. Sweat beads on my forehead and tears pool in my eyes. Two months. Two months. Then I'll be back home.

Nate's face appears again, but this time the way it was when we met. Uninjured. A streak of dirt here or there. Ruggedly handsome. Handsome. He kissed me and I kissed him. There was something so dangerous. . . so forbidden in that kiss. I. . . I loved it.

"Sana?"

I open my eyes to the wall.

"I'm all done. I've tied the robe back in place. I'm going to give you some cream you can apply on your face and back to help heal it." He helps me sit up.

"Unfortunately, she won't be able to use that," Barrow says. I also won't have anyone to help me with rubbing it in my back.

"Why?" The physician tilts his head to the side.

"They'll confiscate it once she reaches her prison."

Doctor Colm looks at me, his eyes wide.

"I'm being transported."

He opens and closes his mouth. "Well I will leave you to get dressed then."

Once they're gone I dress as quickly as I can without causing my back too much pain.

Someone knocks on the door.

"Come in."

Doctor Colm pokes his head in before stepping in all the way. "I wanted to give you this." He holds out a small cylinder bottle attached to a chain. "You can attach this underneath your clothes. If they just check you for weapons then they probably won't find it."

I take it, turning it over in my hand. "Thank you."

"What did you do?"

"I'm taking the place of someone else."

"That doesn't seem like justice to me."

I smile sheepishly. "They made a special exception for me."

He frowns. "You look familiar."

I'm in trouble if he figures out I'm a princess. "I'm sure my face is a common one."

He laughs but it doesn't have heart in it. "Take care. You realize how easy it would be for your back or face to become infected?"

I clutch the vile. "Yes. Thank you for being so kind to me."

He rubs his jaw. "Your. . . he's anxious to go."

"I know. He's ready to get rid of me."

He takes a step closer. "Keep that fact in mind."