In the Shadows~zayn au~Completed ✅EDITING

~Chapter 22: Woman in Trousers~

A/N: This took so much longer than I planned! I apologize for that! It seems busyness never quits. As well, writer's block held me in it's clutches for a time. However, I'm back and eager for this to truly get under way! Thanks to everyone who has read, voted, or commented so far! It's been so amazing to know that people actually like this story as much as I do!

A special thanks goes to meowtainfalls who got me out of my funk with her excellent voting and commenting! Hence this chapter is dedicated as such. Lots of love!!

And without further ado!!!

The thundering of the horses' hooves deafened her and the jarring of the ride numbed her into a place where time no longer existed. Eventually, the man (Louis?) pulled on the reins, bringing his horse and Starling to a halt. He slid down and reached for her, yanking her off the horse after him. She stumbled, unable to gain her footing, before he steadied her.

"We run from here," he said, moving away toward Starling. He removed her travel case and pulled out several bags from it, tying them to his horse's saddle before replacing the case back on Starling's saddle.

"Excuse me, what?" Kalysta asked, having finally gained her equilibrium once more.

"I'm redistributing your clutter so that the horses can trot behind us while we run," he replied, not even answering the right question. "Black needs a rest from our weight, and this won't be as much trouble for them."

"I see you're as unimaginative in naming horses as you are inconceivably rude in your treatment of human beings."

"First, Princess, I didn't name the horse," he sighed, "and second, stop complaining. You'll need to save your breath for running."

"I can't run."

"Of course you can," he countered. Faster than she realized he could move, he had stepped forward, whipped out a blade, and had slashed a tear in her skirt. "There, now tear it to the ground and pin it up, so that you won't trip over it as we run."

She stumbled backward away from him and his knife until she tripped and fell heavily.

"Oh, by the gods, woman!" he exclaimed, moving forward to help her up.

She backward crawled further away from him.

"I've had enough of your help, thank you very much!" she protested, gathering herself to stand on her own. "If you would stop assuming you know what I'm going to say, this would go a whole lot better!" She grumbled at the large tear in the middle of her skirt now

"We don't have time for your talking."

"I can't go on like this anymore!" she protested. "I've had next to no sleep the past week and it's wearing me down. We can keep moving, but I won't be running. You can threaten to leave or actually leave, I don't care! I'd rather face the bandits, frankly."

"Fine," Louis complained, "we'll take things slower on foot, but we'll keep moving."

She didn't respond. She just walked over to his horse and dug through one of the bags until she pulled out the pair of trousers that Delia had packed for her. It took her a couple of seconds to slip them on under her skirts, but once she did she removed the petticoats and outer skirt.

"There," she said finally. "That's a better alternative to destroying a good dress, isn't it?"

"You're a woman and you're going to wear trousers?" he asked, slightly appalled.

"You're worse than your master and my nobles," she snapped. "What someone wears does not make them who they are."

"Zayn is not my master," Louis hissed. "Now, let's go." He grabbed his horse's reins and set off at a brisk walk.

She grabbed Starling's reins and followed suit.

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As they walked, the sun rose behind them, bringing warmth and drying the dew from the grass. Even with this, her slipper-like shoes were soaked from walking all night. It was uncomfortable and she was sure she'd have a blister before they reached Westtown.

"Are we ever going to stop for food?" she asked around an hour later.

"Are you ever going to stop complaining?" he countered.

"I asked a simple question, sir!" she protested. "I can eat while I walk if that's what's necessary."

"Well, if you can eat while walking then you don't need to ask me for permission," he said over his shoulder.

This man was definitely starting to irritate her. She had thought the Ambassador was the only one with the talent to annoy her this exceptionally, but she was obviously wrong.

She kept Starling walking, but slowed enough to step next to the horse and rummage through her bags for food. Delia had placed bread and cheese in one, which was much better than nothing. Kalysta stayed silent as she walked, eating for a moment, but as she watched Louis moving ahead her curiosity got the better of her.

"Where are you from, sir?" she asked.

"Who's to say I'm not from Mullingar?"

"You're much too dark-skinned for that," she commented. "I've known too many Mullingans, and they all have skin as pale as mine. And you sound nothing like one. They lose their 'g's, while you do not."

"Does it matter all that much, Princess?" he sighed.

She stepped a bit faster to walk next to him.

"Yes, it does," she said. "I'm taking a huge risk, traveling away and trusting everything to your master. Is it so wrong to desire to know whether the people I'm to travel with can be trusted?"

"For the last time, he's not my master!" Louis cried.

"How am I supposed to know? You work with him, you take orders from him; isn't that what a master does?"

Louis pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and finger, obviously attempting to calm himself.

"My daughter doesn't even ask this many questions," he grumbled, releasing his nose to glare at her.

"You have children? What are their names?"

"Shut it," he ordered, looking away. "If you can talk this much then that must mean you're recovered enough to pick up the pace. Would you care to start running?"

"I'd rather not."

"Then for the love of the gods, stay silent."

She subsided into very exasperated quiet, pondering who on earth this mysterious man was who obviously wasn't Mullingan or Bradian and gave orders as if there was no doubt in his mind that they would be obeyed. He was a conundrum that she was determined to figure out. She didn't trust him either. Maybe it was his attitude, or his quick diversion from her questions, but something to hide meant something that could endanger her. He would need to be watched for sure.

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"Alright, we need to move more quickly or we won't make Westtown by this evening," he said several hours later. "We'll ride again now that the horses have had time to catch their breath."

Kalysta didn't argue, she simply paused and swung into Starling's saddle. She welcomed the rest for her legs. It'd been some time since she'd had to walk this much. She was by no means a weakling, but she could feel the events of the past few days weighing her down in exhaustion. Louis was only a moment later in pulling himself up onto Black's saddle. She watched him from her position in line behind him. Even in the saddle he seemed to have a regal bearing. He had to be at least a noble, but from where? Wolvecaster and Cheshire held similar accents and coloring. She was inclined to think the former, since his height would not land him very high in the social climate of Cheshire, where being tall was seen as a sign of nobility.

She kept these thoughts to herself, lest she press him further into anger.

"Are you ready?" he asked, looking back at her. She nodded.

He dug his heels into Black's sides, prompting the horse to jump into a run. Kalysta did the same, holding tightly to Starling's reins as the gelding leaped forward, quickly catching up to Louis and the mare.