A faint crease appeared between Zora's brows. Harold's certainty lingered in her mind, and she could not quite understand where that confidence came from.
Still, there was no hostility between them. On the contrary, they had helped each other twice now. If nothing else, they could be counted as acquaintances, perhaps even friends.
"Then, until we meet again," she said calmly.
She lifted a hand in farewell and turned toward the inn, her white figure gradually melting into the dim light of the street. It was already late. She had no idea how many people Guinvere might have arranged to come after her. Returning earlier would save her unnecessary trouble.
Harold watched her retreating back for a long moment. A faint smile curved his lips, while a subtle, unreadable glint flickered deep within his dark eyes.
