I stare at it for a second, not sure if I should take it. But then I remember he spent all afternoon leading me around by the hand. It seems ridiculous to worry about the rules now. Especially because: “Apparently, I’m not a princess after all. I’m just pretending.”
He snorts as I grasp his hand and let him pull me to my feet. “Can you run?”
I want to tell him that of course I can, but my back is still throbbing. I release his hand and say, “I think so.”
He’s picking up the bags I dropped when they attacked me. “Good. Then let’s go.”
The first couple of steps are agony, but I grit my teeth and take it, because the alternative is still being here when they come back, and I quite strongly don’t want that to happen. But as we turn the corner, I hear a shout from behind us.
It only takes a few seconds before other people join in, until the whole street sounds like a pack of baying prupples.
“Shit,” Ian growls. He picks up speed, and I grab the skirt of my robe and run like my life depends on it, ignoring the pain that continues to shoot through me. It’s nothing compared to what I’ll feel if they catch us, and I know it.
Ian rockets down an alley, then hesitates. “Fuck,” he growls, and it’s not hard to figure out why he’s upset. The shouts are getting louder.
“Onto the roof,” he orders.
I repeat the words in my head, but they make no sense. Onto the roof. How does he expect us to get up there? Fly? “I’m sorry?”
“We have to get on the roof.” He looks around. “You can climb on that refuse bin, then swing up.”
“I—I can’t.” I shake my head vehemently. Climbing has never been my thing. My physical education tutors couldn’t bribe or punish me into the simplest wall-climbing exercise as a child. Plus, my ribs hurt so badly, I’m almost sobbing. “I’ll never make it that high.”
“Never say never, Princess.” He wraps his hands around my waist and pretty much lifts me on top of the bin before levering himself up next to me.
I take a deep breath, then immediately regret it. The bin stinks like nothing I’ve ever smelled before. Ian doesn’t seem to notice as he tosses the bags onto the roof, then grips the edge and swings himself up. He makes it look so easy. But he’s taller than me and I suspect a good deal stronger.
“Come on,” he says. “You can do it.”
But I can’t. I try several times, and I can’t even reach the edge, my blood pulsing in my head with each throb of my midsection. “Just go,” I tell him. “You’re running out of time.”
For a moment, I fully expect him to disappear and leave me—it’s what I did to him earlier, after all. But then he drops to his stomach and hangs over the edge, holding his right arm out to me.
He’s giving me a literal lifeline, and I don’t have to be asked twice. I grab onto his hand and jump as Ian heaves. For a second, I’m dangling over the bin, feet kicking wildly in all directions. Then the roof is right there in front of me. I grab the edge with my free hand while he grips the back of my robe with his. Then we’re both pulling up, up, up, and then I’m over. I land on my face, then quickly roll over to my back, my entire body throbbing with pain.
“Thank—”
“Shhh,” he interrupts, flattening himself against the dark blue roof.
I clamp my lips together and lie very still as I stare up at the rapidly darkening sky. The moon is rising. My heart slams against my chest loudly enough that I’m sure our pursuers can hear.
Below us, footsteps enter the alley. They get about halfway into it before they slow down, and my stomach churns sickly. They’re going to find us and kill us, and…I don’t want to die.
It’s not the first time I’ve had that thought tonight—all for different reasons. Which is bizarre. Four days ago, the most dangerous thing I’d ever done was help my mother host a conciliatory dinner while the Council was feuding and threatening to implode at any second.
The murmur of voices floats up from below, but they’re talking so quietly that I can’t make out the words.
Beside me, Ian is breathing slowly and evenly, and I try to match my breaths to his. But waiting on them feels like an eternity.
Finally, the footsteps move away. They’re leaving.
I’m shaking with relief and pain as I start to sit up, but Ian stops me with a hand on my arm that has me lying still. We wait just like that for another five minutes or so, maybe seven, until he’s sure they’re gone. Then he sits up.
I can see his face in the dim light, the sharp angles of his cheekbones. His dark eyes are gleaming. “You’re a hell of a lot of trouble, Princess.”
I know. And I don’t really understand why he keeps helping me. I’m just glad he does.
Tears prick at my eyes at the thought, but I blink them away. I’m fed up with feeling pathetic. I sit and hug my knees to my chest.
“Why the fuck did you run?” he asks.
For a moment, I don’t know what he means. I’d somehow forgotten about the men he killed. Now it all floods back. “You gouged that man’s eyes out. It was horrible.”
“He would have done the same to me. And probably worse to you.”
I shudder at that. After the last half hour, I believe him. “That final man was running away. You killed him anyway.”
“He wasn’t running away. He was trying to find you.” He gives me a look, but I’m not sure what he’s trying to convey. Pity, maybe. “You’re not in the palace anymore, Princess. You’re out in the real world, and it’s not a nice place. You adapt or you die.”
I consider his words. After everything I’ve seen, I know he’s right. But how can someone who’s lived her whole life in the darkness adapt overnight to the light?
“Ian. If we get back to the Starlight, will you teach me to fight?”
Shock flashes across his face. “You want to be able to fight?”
“I do. And maybe Gage can teach me a few things about computers?”
He rolls his eyes at that. “That man may be a genius, but a teacher he is not.”
“Look,” I continue. “I obviously can’t rely on you being there every time I get into trouble. Those men would have killed me with pleasure, and there was nothing I could do to stop them, even though I tried.”
He looks like he wants to say no, but in the end he just shrugs. “I guess I could have a go at it. But my training won’t come cheap.”
“Well, you’ve taken all my valuables already. Consider yourself paid.”
“Nah. That money was for all of us. Don’t worry; I’ll think of something.” He blows out his breath and runs a hand through his hair. “We’ll wait five more minutes and then make a move. What shall we do in the meantime?”
I try to lean back on my arms but wince at the pain.
“Are you hurt?” He reaches out and gently touches a finger to my lower lip. A shiver runs through me. “There’s blood on your mouth.”
“I banged it into the ground.” Not for the first time, it occurs to me just how few people have actually touched me in my life. And never like this.