Jacques pulled her into a small, narrow corridor, shrouded in darkness despite even the blue brilliance of the day. His deep blue eyes were nervous, glancing. The blade was cold against the pale flesh of Gabrielle’s throat.

“You!” he hissed into her ear.

She struggled against his hold. “Let go at once!” she exclaimed in hushed tones, lest the Welcoming Party hear all the commotion. “I can explain!”

Jacques’ grip loosened only slightly, but Gabrielle knew her life was no longer in danger. She pushed Jacques away and turned to face him.

The face she saw was not the face she expected. He was no longer the confident young man she had visited in a dream. His face was streaked with dirt and sweat, his eyes frightful and unsure.

Gabrielle’s heart lept for him.

“Why have you brought me here?” he spat.

“We can’t talk freely here,” she whispered, her words bouncing off the stone of the corridor. “There is always someone listening.”

She grabbed his hand and led him deeper into the darkness.