Vica had no idea where they were when the wagon finally stopped. All she knew was that it felt as if they had been traveling in a straight line in the direction of nowhere for hours, and as much pain as she had been in earlier, now it was at least twofold thanks to the stiffness that had settled into her knees. Into all of her joints, actually, which creaked and sent shooting, searing sensations up and down her body when she tried to move them.
"Quickly, while there is no one to see us." Cicera was already outside the wagon, dress hitched up over her ankles and the hood of her black satin cloak pulled over her head. You could help, Vica considered muttering, but maybe it was futile to think that a so-called duchess would stoop to helping a bush mage, a half-dead assassin, or an elf clambe
