Market Day was overflowing with merchants selling their wares as Jag led her through the dusty streets. Riley closed her eyes and inhaled the unusual scents. “This never gets old for me. I love it.”

The place was a burst of color and noise like the bazaars of the Middle East with everything from exotic foods and colorful cloth, to leather goods, raw nuts and spices, and everything in between available.

She pointed to the cluster of old men sitting with their thick aromatic coffee, debating the state of the world the same way they had when she and the girls first arrived on Galaxa. Only difference now were the warm toothless smiles that greeted her and Jag as they walked past.

“See them,” she said, gesturing to the men. “Back home, the seniors sit in the park and play checkers while they argue about the world at large.” She chuckled. “So, I guess it is sort of similar.”

The old men looked up, and one touched his forefingers to his forehead with a smile. “Yawm jidin, jamilat wahida… Good day, pretty one,” he said, and the others nodded as well.

“Well, you certainly charmed the elders. They barely acknowledge me these days, but for you they stop arguing and smile.” Jag grinned.

She glanced over her shoulder and then shrugged. “I sneak them bread pudding from the palace kitchen after dinner.” Flashing a sheepish grin, she shrugged again. “What can I say? I miss my grandpa and he loved bread pudding, especially with a splash of whiskey.”

“I knew it!” He laughed. “Plying those poor old men with alcohol.”

She snorted. “A splash of whiskey in a bowl of pudding? Seriously? Besides, I didn’t need to ply them with anything. They like me.”

“I bet.” He looked across his chest at the small woman walking beside him and tucked her arm in his before steering her toward the quieter side of the throng. “Don’t you have markets like this on Earth?”

“We do, but not where I come from. The Palladian capital reminds me of a place back home called Dubai. It’s a glittering city in the middle of a desert. A playground for the wealthy with native settlements on the outskirts surrounding a high-stakes, high-rise metropolis.”

Riley was still talking when a girl wearing a dress of sheer scarves walked past as they stopped at a row of houseware stalls. The young woman’s mouth curved in an inviting smile as her eyes locked with Jag’s, his gaze following the sway of her hips as she passed.

Red faced, Riley pulled her arm from his elbow. “You don’t have to babysit me, Jag. I practically majored in retail back home, so I’m perfectly capable of shopping on my own if you’ve found something more stimulating to keep your attention than my simple Earth stories.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he said, surprised at her change in tone.

Riley swung her arm to where the girl headed toward the crowded square. “Her. Your eyes were practically glued to her ass.”

“Why would I leave you and your simple Earth stories to follow that? There’s no challenge there.”

“Challenge?” Riley snorted. “Not with that outfit. One tug and the whole get up puddles to the floor. Not that she didn’t already know that the minute she left her house.”

“That’s the point.” Jag nodded with a grin. “Her clothes advertise she’s skilled in the art of love.”

“Advertise?” Riley balked. “You mean that girl was a hooker?”

“Hooker?” he asked, confused.

“Yes.” She nodded. “As in prostitute. Or whore. Whichever fits.”

Reaching for a marble pestle from one of the shop shelves, he held the stone suggestively in his hand. The item was long and thick with a knobbed end, and he ran a hand over the smooth grain. “Do you have a problem with sex, Ms. Parks? Because I can help. All you need to do is ask.”

Riley watched his big hand stroke the marble shaft and she swallowed, forcing herself not to look away.

“Isn’t this an interesting piece?” he asked. “It’s for grinding exotic spices, but if you look closely, I’m sure a vibrant woman such as yourself can think of other uses for its hard girth.”

Heat scorched Riley’s cheeks and she glared at him for teasing her. “I…I…have no problem with sex, thank you very much. What I have a problem with are players.” She turned to walk away, but then stopped. “For someone who likes playing games, your skills suck at knowing when to quit while you’re ahead.”

“My skills are just fine.” He took a step closer and ran a finger down her bare arm. “But speaking about sucking, there is something I need a little help with—if you’re offering.”

Her mouth dropped open.

“That’s a start, love, but you’re definitely going to have to open much wider.” He grinned. “I’m a very big boy.”

Flustered, she shoved his hand away. “Jag, please. I’m not some palace flunky you can play with and then dismiss. Can’t we just concentrate on the job at hand?”

His grin sobered, and he caught her hand as she pulled back. “Who said I planned on dismissing you, Riley? I thought I made that clear the other day in the hallway. Do you think I volunteered to help with this party planning deal on a whim?”

“Karis said it was your duty,” she replied, desperate.

He shook his head. “My duty is to my brother and House Kasaval. That means I stand with Vander, not traipse around picking out hors d'oeuvres and petit fours and deciding on table linens. I volunteered for this insanity to see if there’s more to the little Earth mouse than sneaking peeks at me from across the courtyard. I had a small taste of the real you that day in the corridor, and I want more. There’s fire inside you, little mouse, and I’ve never wanted to be burned by anyone more.”

Embarrassed heat flew up her cheeks and she saw red. She slapped his hand away for the second time, lifting her chin despite her flush. “I don’t need your help traipsing around, Jag. As for the little Earth mouse, be careful what you wish for. I may be quiet and small, but I have very sharp teeth!” She let her eyes lock with his. “You want more? Then do it the right way, Jag.” She turned on her heel and stormed toward the street, making a beeline for the fruit stalls on the next block.

”Riley! Wait!” he called after her, but she wouldn’t stop.

With a muttered expletive, he rushed after her, grabbing her arm as she rounded the corner. “You can’t just storm off. I may have ulterior motives for coming on this excursion, but I’m also here to make sure nothing happens to you.”

She opened her mouth to argue when a commotion broke out in the merchant stalls ahead. Children dashed in an around the barrows as a burly man charged through the market center. “You! I’ll have your ears!” he huffed, chasing a single boy child barreling toward Jag and Riley. “Stop him!”

Jag reached out and snagged the boy by the shirt collar. “And what do we have here?”

“Oi! You! Give ‘em over. I’ll take him from here.” The man wheezed, trying to catch his breath.

Fear flashed in the boy’s eyes and he visibly cringed.

“Jag, wait.” Seeing the alarm on the child’s face, Riley took a step forward, pushing the boy between her and Jag. “I don’t think so.” She lifted her chin in refusal.

The man’s red face turned even redder. “This is no concern of yours, miss. Just hand the little beggar over so he can get what’s coming to him.”

“No,” she replied. “Not until you tell us what crime this child could possibly have committed.” Her chin stayed high as she waited for a response.

The man’s eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer. The poor lad clutched at Riley’s skirt, his little body trembling. Riley’s hand shot out almost on instinct, shoving the big oaf back. “Take another step, and I swear, my foot will find your balls, point blank.”

Jag bit the inside of his cheek as he eyed them both. Riley was half the man’s size at least, yet she stood with her shoulders squared and her hand on the guy’s beefy chest.

“Well?” Jag interjected. “You heard the lady. What did the boy do to make you chase him through the streets?”

“He stole two apples from my stall.” The vendor’s chest puffed out. “And it’s not the first time.”

Riley exchanged a look with Jag before glancing back to the man. “Two apples?” she repeated, incredulous. “The little child taking a few pieces of fruit prompted you to chase him down like a criminal? Can’t you see he’s starving? I suppose that fact escaped you.”

“Doesn’t matter. The old laws would have taken his hand for the offense,” he replied.

Shaking her head in disgust, she reached for her purse, but Jag beat her to the punch. Fishing a handful of coins from his pocket, he held them out to the man. “This should more than compensate for your losses, past and present.”

The vendor took the money, palming it with a sneer. “It’s the likes of you that keep these mongrels begging. Paying their way don’t teach them nothing. A stiff caning and a raw back is what they need.” He pivoted on his heavy boots and stomped back to his stall.

Riley’s fists clenched at her side. “Something tells me that man would’ve preferred beating the tar out of the boy than taking the money.”

The child peeked from behind her skirts, watching the vendor storm back to his fruit stall. His narrow shoulders slumped. “Thank you, miss,” his tiny voice managed.

Riley knelt in the dust, lifting the child’s face so she could see his eyes. “Where’s your family, sweetheart? Your parents?”

“Gone.”

Jag’s eyes were still on the vendor, watching the man scowl. “You know, I think it might be better for everyone if our new friend returned with us to the palace.”

Riley opened her mouth to argue, but her words broke off as she tracked Jag’s line of sight to the agitated man pacing. “Holy cow. Is it me or is he just waiting for us to leave.”

“Body language doesn’t lie, Riley. Not with anger or arousal or fear.” Jag quietly motioned to the fresh panic in the boy’s face. Before she could say anything, he squatted as well. “What’s your name, son? How old are you?”

The boy’s gaze fell to his feet, but Jag slipped two fingers under his chin, making him look up. “It’s okay, you can tell us.”

“Kes, sir. I’m eight,” he finally replied.

Jag spared a glance for Riley before looking at the boy again. “Do you know who I am?”

At first the child shook his head, but seeing Jag’s no-nonsense expression, he nodded slowly. “You’re the king’s brother.”

“Yes.” Jag nodded softly. “My friend and I have some things we need to do in town today. Would you like to help us?”

The child nodded, his eyes darting to the vendor again. He moved closer to Jag and the prince patted the boy’s hand. “Good. After that, you can come with us to the palace. I’m sure we can find something for you to do that’ll keep you out of trouble.” He flashed the boy a quick smile. “But first, I think we’d better get you something decent to eat.”

Jag moved to get up, but Riley put a staying hand on his shoulder. “Tell me one thing before we go. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

The boy swallowed hard, his eyes darting from them toward a torn curtain hung in a makeshift way between buildings.

“It’s okay, Kes. Tell us the truth,” Jag reassured.

As if on cue, Riley spotted a pair of eyes peering from behind the dirty drape. “Jag,” she gestured quietly.

“Is that where you live, son?” he asked.

Kes shook his head. “We don’t live anywhere. That’s where my sister stays hidden while I try to get us some food. I told her to stay quiet, that way no one takes her.”

Jag’s brows rose. “Takes her? Who would take her?”

The boy licked his lips. “The nomad man. He comes around sometimes and talks to people. He takes lots of girls, and then no one sees them again. He tried to talk to my mama. He said he could help Lettie, but Mama died before he could convince her. I’ve been hiding Lettie since. Mama said Lettie and me were all we had, and that we had to stick together.” He looked at Jag, his big eyes both frightened and hard. “Lettie’s only six, and there’s only me to protect her.”

Riley’s heart broke, and she gently reached for the boy’s hand. “You’re safe with us, Kes. You and Lettie. I know you want to stay together, but you can’t do that and stay on the streets. It’s not safe.” She waited a moment, giving his thin hand a squeeze. “Why not let us help?”

The boy looked from one to the other, his lip quivering despite his bravado. “How do I know you won’t send Lettie away from me?”

“It’s called faith, Kes,” Riley replied softly. “The prince and I have no reason to hurt you. I know you don’t trust us but working at the palace will give you a safe place to live, good food, and security. Plus, with me and Prince Jag as your friends, you’ll have an ace in your pocket, just in case.” She watched him take in every word.

She ran a thumb over his grubby hand. “Sometimes trust is a leap you have to take. I promise this, though, things will be better at the palace than they ever could on the street.”

“Riley is best friends with our new queen,” Jag added, “and she doesn’t lie. She’s all about telling the truth, even when you don’t want to hear it. Trust me. She even calls me on my crap and I’m the prince. If you trust us and you and Lettie come to the palace, you have my word as a Kasaval that you will be safe.”

He held his hand out to the boy, man-to-man. “My hand is my word, Kes. A token of my promise to a new friend. Of course, friends are easier to find if they live close.” Angling his head, Jag looked at the boy. “What do you say?”

A small smile broke across his dirt-smeared face showing little white teeth.

“Good,” Jag nodded. “Go get Lettie and let’s get you settled.”

Jag straightened, watching the boy run across to their ramshackle hiding place. He held his hand out to help Riley up, but once standing she didn’t pull away as he expected. Instead she went up on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You may be a player, but that was amazing,” she said, trying to cover the hitch in her voice. “I can’t believe those poor children have no one in this world to rely on.”

Jag gave her hand a squeeze. “They have us. I only wish there was something more I could do. I need to talk to Vander. This has Maddox written all over it. When people petition the crown for help, their appeals go through the Lord Chamberlain. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if those petitions found their way into the garbage instead of Vander’s desk, and the money that would have been appropriated into Maddox’s pocket.” He paused, glancing toward the torn drape. “Maybe we’d better get the children to the palace before we finish our errands. I’m not sure how much Kes trusts us.”

“It’s going to take them a little time, that’s for sure, and the burden is on us to keep what we promised.” She nodded. “I agree, though, Vander and Ivy need to know about this.”

She looked around the market and suddenly there were small, grimy faces hiding in plain sight everywhere. Chewing on her lip, she hesitated. “Jag, the nomad man Kes mentioned. That day in the market…the day the girls and I saw Maddox kill that man.” She jerked her eyes back to him. “He was a nomad, as well, and sold Maddox the worms, the ones whose secretions were linked to all those deaths.

“Could they be linked?” she asked. “I mean, when Ivy was taken, it wasn’t for ransom. She was to be sold to the highest bidder. I remember her telling me she overheard the cave rogues arguing over who could get twice the price for the honey-haired human even though she was promised to the jungle warlords to test the potency of their poison on humans.” Her eyes searched his. “There have been other abductions, haven’t there?”

He paused, but then nodded. “Yes, we still haven’t figured out who or why, but Damen Iceri has his men on it.”

“Yeah, not to mention he’s busy making that puffed up loser Maddox talk.” Riley frowned. “I hope Damen tries our primitive human methods on the rat bastard!”

Jag lifted her hand to press his lips to her fingers. “I think, like me, your friends have you pegged all wrong.”

She swallowed against the butterflies winging around her stomach at the feel of his lips on her skin. She watched, imagining him crushing his mouth to hers. “What do you mean?”

He chuckled, kissing her hand again. “You may be quiet, but you’re full of fire and fight when pushed. Not to mention sharp-tongued when it comes to calling people out.” He smiled. “So much for the timid mouse everyone thinks they know. You’re feisty, Riley, and I like that—and for the record, I would have paid big money to see your foot find that bastard’s balls.”

Heat crawled up her cheeks and flamed into her ears. “I don’t know about that, but I do know what it’s like to feel vulnerable and weak. I had to learn to be strong. Not like Henley or even Ivy. I’ve never been the in-your-face type, but that doesn’t mean I won’t stand up for what I believe or for those I care about.”

He tugged her arm, pulling her close enough to let his lips hover near hers. “Then I hope I’m one of the people you care about.”

Kes walked back with Lettie and Riley was grateful for the distraction. Player or not, she wanted Jag, and there was no going back.

She stepped away from him and turned to watch the children approach. The two looked waif-like as they crossed the busy thoroughfare, hand in hand.

The children stopped in front of them, and Lettie looked up at Riley and blinked. “You’re so pretty,” she said, and a tiny smile cracked her dirty face.

Jag laced his fingers with Riley’s and smiled back at the child. “Yes, she is, Lettie. Very pretty.” He winked at the two. “Now, who wants to see your new home?”