“Steal?” Shock rolled through her. “I don’t understand.”
“The way I see it, those from Westfall oweus.” He thumbed at his chest as he eyed her, looking for any valuable she might have on her person. His gaze paused a little too long on her pendant.
She clutched the dagger tighter, ready to draw it should he make any sudden movement.
“Let her be, Caleb,” another man said. He lumbered up behind the scraggly man and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Find someone else to hassle.”
Caleb grunted, shot her a scowl, and trudged off.
The second man was younger than Caleb, but with a pronounced limp as he favored his left leg. His dark hair was shaggy, hanging down to his shoulders with a fall across his forehead. He had bright, intelligent eyes as he peered at her with an apologetic smile.
“You’ll have to forgive him. He’s a curmudgeon and suspicious of everyone.”
“Is he? Why did he ask if we were here to steal from you?” she asked.
“Because that’s what he thinks about Westfall. He doesn’t want to believe what he sees. Those villagers do nothing but try to help us. It’s Queen Seraphina that steals from us. I’m William, the innkeeper’s son.”
Snow was not surprised to hear about Seraphina stealing from the villagers. Roderick had told her as much. She looked to the door in which Roderick had disappeared into, wondering if he was still in there.
“Do you seek food and shelter?” he asked.
“And a stable for our horse,” she said.
“We can accommodate you,” he said. “We don’t see many visitors like you.”
“Like me?”
“Rich folk,” he added. One corner of his mouth lifted in a grin.
She liked him right away. He was kind and reminded her a bit of Ardan, which sent a pang of grief through her.
Roderick burst from the inn, his face red with fury as he charged toward her. William stumbled back out of his way as he stuck his foot in the stirrup and settled into the saddle.
“We’re leaving,” he said, his voice gruff. He reached a hand down to her to help her up.
“Leaving?” Snow asked, remaining in place. “But I thought—”
“Innkeeper said there’s no place for people like us at the inn and no room in the stable,” Roderick replied.
“My father said that?” William asked, incredulous.
Roderick gave him a death glare. “Who are you?”
“Ah, this is William,” Snow cut in. “The innkeeper’s son.”
Roderick glanced from her to him and back again, question and confusion written all over his face.
“William said there was plenty of room in the stable for our horse.” She pinned him with her gaze. “Didn’t you?”
He nodded so hard, a lock of his mop of brown hair fell over his forehead. “Give me a moment to speak to my father.” And then he scurried into the inn, his limp a little more noticeable as he tried to hurry.
Roderick clutched the reins tighter in his hands. “Let’s go, Snow. That man doesn’t want us here.”
“We will wait,” she said, her tone patient. When he gave her a quizzical look, she added, “You said yourself we needed allies.”
He started to object when William came out of the inn, a look of triumph on his youthful face. “Follow me.” He waved them after him.
Snow gave him a glance and then followed the boy. Roderick hesitated a moment before nudging his horse into a walk. William led them to a stable behind the inn where there were several open stalls and a few horses already boarded. Once they were in the stable, he dismounted and relinquished the reins to William. He led it into the first open stall.
