The warmth of the bowl nestled in her hands was very comforting that she was debating with herself whether to finish the soup or to just hold on to its warmth until the cold of the mountain took it from her. “I was afraid he would stay and ask you to leave,” she said, still staring into the thick liquid inside the bowl. “It doesn’t matter that you might be wrong, I am doomed if both he and you share the same thoughts about me.” She lifted her head to find him chewing on the bread, watching her. Who could he have been if he were not an orphan of Cannor and how come he knew so much about the past? He was different somehow. Perhaps more clever and observing than the others, or maybe he was just too superstitious.

Ysabel lifted the wooden bowl to her lips and savored the feeling of warmth traveling down her throat until it settled in her stomach and she wondered how long until she felt such warmth again. There was no fireplace in her room to warm it and there would be no fire to comfort her once she was out of the walls of Cannor, not unless she wished herself discovered if any of the orphans had the mind to go after her.

She put the bowl down on the bed. “And what about you? What happens when they find out that I am missing? Derrin knows you are watching over me.” Again, it was none of her business. He was just a stranger who had made a decision to help her get out of Cannor, she should be thankful and not one to make him think twice about his decisions in life. “Why don’t you just come with me?” Ysabel asked, getting up so she towered over his sitting form. The corners of her lips tugged up so she was looking down at him with a small, wicked smile on her face. “If what you believe is correct and the gods have returned, then I shall be made queen. And as for you, I shall appoint you to a position – any position you wish – and grant you lands and castles. Come on, we better leave, before some more of your brothers decided to visit us.”

The hall outside the room was made of the same gray stones laid out on top of each other. There were no windows where the cold might enter, but the wall opposite the door was lined with evenly spaced torches. Because no light could enter, the torches were lit no matter what time of the day it was. Time would be hard to guess inside the keep, but the flickering flame from the torches was more warmth than the gas lamp and candles that lit her room. 

She let Roran lead her through the maze of halls, occasionally stopping to check if the next hallway was clear. It might not be easy to guess the time, but Ysabel imagined it was still dark outside and dawn might be a couple of hours yet. She deduced this from the quiet and the lack of men loitering in the area. Roran was right, this would be easier than when most of his brothers were awake. 

Their first stop was to steal some food. Her back was pressed against the wall beside what she guessed was the kitchen door. It must either be the thin air or fatigue, because she was catching her breath and her limbs specifically felt very tired. For a few moments that she treasured, they listened in the silence, waiting for a sound to betray a person in the kitchen, but there was none. “The cook might have gone to bed,” she whispered.