Dustin and Serena wandered the streets of the Innutukian capital wearing the hooded garb of the common folk, keeping their heads down just as the poorer of the locals did. Aimless as their walking was, they did have a goal in mind, that being to leave the marketplace behind, but the collection of vendors and buyers seemed to sprawl out across half the city. Every road that appeared to lead out of the place actually looped back to where they'd started. Each intersection seemed in reality to return to the same destination, and that was the market.

"Is the only way out to go back the way we came in?" Dustin puzzled out loud as they passed a cart laden with smoked meats.

Serena didn't answer for a moment, as a burly man had bumped into her a moment prior without even the slightest apology. "It seems that way..." she muttered distractedly, "Maybe we should ask someone."

Dustin shook his head vigorously. "Neither of us speak Innutukian, and our accents would give us away if we speak any other tongue."

"Then we must wander until we find our way. What do you intend to do once we get out of the market?"

"Find an inn, I suppose. Actually, perhaps that would only lead to our being found."

"Most likely so." Serena agreed, "Anyone looking for us would search the inn, possibly first of all."

"True. We do have some time before evening falls, but all that running does have me exhausted. Where can we find rest and not be found ourselves?"

"I know this city as poorly as you do. We'll simply have to keep our eyes open. First, we should focus on leaving the marketplace behind us."

Dustin nodded. His attention had been focused on the irony of a lanky vendor selling massive pastries slathered in sweet glazes that could be smelled from far away, but then he glanced up at the path ahead and momentarily froze at what he saw.

A quartet of Innutukian soldiers dispersed among the crowd of marketgoers with spears and axes in their hands. Scowls overtook their features as they threaded through. Dustin watched as one of the armed men pulled aside a little girl and knelt beside her to ask some questions he couldn't understand due to the language barrier. She pointed in the direction Dustin and Serena had just come from, an answer the soldier sneered at for one reason or another.

Dustin glanced where the little girl had pointed, and his stomach sank further upon seeing over two dozen soldiers mingling with the crowd back that way. They also summoned vendors and buyers alike to ask questions, and fingers pointed every which way. Dustin found himself hurrying his step.

Serena tugged on Dustin's sleeve, snatching his attention back to their more immediate surroundings. He immediately realized what she wanted him to see—another group of Innutukians had entered the marketplace, one of which rode a horse and completely blocked off the road ahead. Worst of all, Paulo was among the new group of soldiers who acted more aggressively than ever.

Dustin and Serena hustled off the path and into the tent of a vendor selling fabrics. They pretended to be scoping out patterned rugs while stealing glances at Paulo and his companions. One soldier aggressively approached a man selling produce with a clipped tone and a tight grip on the axe in his hands. Apparently, he took issue with the man's answer, as he hooked the blade on the rim of a barrel of apples and overturned it, ruining all of them. And when the man rose up to protest, he met the blunt handle and got shoved into the central pole holding up his tent.

"We ought to find a way out of here." Dustin whispered into Serena's ear.

Serena shook her head. "They're everywhere; look."

Dustin took a peek in the direction she indicated, and sure enough, even if they were to double back the way they'd come, more mounted warriors had appeared on the scene to block off sections of the road and question everyone who attempted to pass them.

"Just keep your head down and try not to call any attention to yourself." Serena said, "It's our only choice."

Dustin nodded and continued to pretend the rugs held any of his interest while stealing glances at Paulo and the soldiers who came ever closer. He couldn't help but stare when one of the armed men summoned a woman with graying hair whose two children shared the pastry she had just bought. The soldier asked her a series of questions, and every answer she gave displeased him more than the last.

Paulo stepped over to join the questioning, which only intensified the situation. Finally, the soldier shouted at the woman, raised his spear, and rapped her head with the wooden shaft. With a cry, she stumbled into Paulo, who caught her only to land a slap on her cheek.

Dustin exchanged a glance with Serena, feeling for the scabbard he'd hidden in the folds of his cloak. He shook his head and tightened his lips.

"I do apologize, my lady, but to allow her to be wronged for my safety would be a shame to my name. I must intervene."

Serena nodded solemnly, and she pulled Dustin's hood back just enough to lay a kiss on his cheek. "Stay safe."

Feeling her words brush over his ear sent a chill down Dustin's spine, but he quickly focused again on the task at hand. He stepped out of the tent, and with one smooth movement, he pulled the cloak open to uncover his naked blade while also revealing his face from under the hood.

"I believe I am the one you seek." Dustin said, snatching Paulo's attention and earning a hardened glare. "Well, here I am."

One of the soldiers moved to grab Dustin, but Paulo put up a hand to halt him. "Leave him to me. We have a score to settle."

Dustin eyed Paulo's hand as it twitched over the golden hilt of his sheathed sword. "I urge you to hear my words before you do anything brash."

"Rather rich counsel coming from a Rickland, isn't it?"

"I suppose so. Now, I have no idea what exactly you've been told about your father and his—"

"I've been told exactly what happened, of course." Paulo snapped. His hand no longer hovered over his pommel; he now grasped it. "Your father slew him in cold blood, motivated by jealousy and a sense of his own inadequacy!"

"That accounting is as far from the truth as we are far from Monterayne. Our fathers were close friends, once upon a time."

"And then your father betrayed mine! Don't patronize me, Rickland."

Dustin sighed. "The way I understand it, a rift was driven between them when your grandfather betrayed the kingdom and slew the leader of the knightly order. My father executed him, and their friendship ended. Then came the Second Reformation War, which pitted them against each other. Your father's demise was nothing personal; it was a consequence of war, and one my father regrets to this day."

"So you've been told." Paulo turned his back on Dustin. Soldiers and bystanders alike backed off to form a circle of free space between the two men. "Any other retelling of events would incriminate the king of Monterayne. The people would never accept that they have a murderer on the throne."

"Except they don't."

"Were you there?" Paulo shouted, whirling about and revealing the fact he'd unsheathed his sword already, "You must take me for a fool to think I'd take a Rickland's word as fact, after the treachery they've shown my family."

"I wasn't there, but neither were you. I know my father, and I can say with all confidence that he would never murder a man for any of the motives you ascribe to him. Furthermore, in your father's dying breath, he made my father swear an oath. An oath he has yet to fulfill and we require your cooperation to make so."

"What's that?"

Dustin took a deep breath. "He swore to your father that we would allow no feud to arise between our houses, and that we would give to you his son all that he left behind. All lands and honors that Andre Feliz would have inherited had he stayed are yours for the taking, and more besides. For generations, the Felizes have found a home in Monterayne, and we wish to restore that state of affairs."

"Why do I have a hard time believing in the legitimacy of such an offer?"

"I suppose I can understand your hesitancy. No doubt you've spent your entire life believing Monterayne and her king stand against you, but I assure you, we wish to restore the honor of your house. Only come to Monterayne, and all you desire shall be yours."

Paulo chuckled. "There's one flaw in your reasoning here. I desire few things in this world, and none more deeply than this, that justice be wrought between our houses. You Ricklands have your hands drenched in the blood of my father, and my chief desire is that this be remedied."

"I mean no offense, but I do pity you. So much of your life is built on the lies you have been fed all your life."

"I've been fed no lies but the ones you spout now!" Paulo shouted, "I have a duty to rectify the wrongs done by the Rickland house—no better place to start than the heir."

Paulo roared and lunged toward Dustin with an upwards attack with his sword that he deftly blocked. Dustin deflected two more blows before taking a step back and taking a defensive stance. He had his work cut out for him—engage in deadly combat while also following his father's prerogative to do Paulo no harm. All he could do was defend himself until he could force a surrender.