"You're coming with us," the officer snarled. They yanked my hands behind my back until the rope bit. Snow puffed into my face. The cold hit the place under my ribs that had stopped pretending it could be numb. "Good catch," another laughed. "A noble plaything won't fetch much, but she'll fetch something." "Shen Yunxi? The shame of House Shen," a voice sang. "Perfect." I kept my mouth shut. Movement mattered more than words. "You're going to be useful," the officer said. "You'll pay our winter wages." "I can still be useful dead," I said. They stopped. Laughter froze on their faces. "Talk true," the leader barked. "You're not Yunxi. You're a runaway, a whore, or a witch. Which?" "Call me dead and be done with it," I said. I let my hands relax a fraction. One of them reached to tighten the rope. He smelled of cheap tobacco and stale ale. He was broad and bored and used to getting what he wanted. He leaned close. Up close I saw the ragged line of a scar at his temple. He thought he had the right to leer. "Don't get smart," he warned. "We can sell her to the Harbor Gate. Or to the Regent's men. They'll pay for a scandal handled." "Scandal sells," the leader muttered. "And the Regent pays high for trouble that isn't his." I felt the knife under my sleeve, the single edge I had