" So there I was, light-headed with hunger, footsore, with the perimeter of safety having closed to about ten paces around me, and the Marquis of Shevraeth standing just on the other side of the wall.
At least he didn’t--yet--know it.
As if in answer, I heard the klunk of footsteps on the tiled floor directly above me. Someone else had been listening at a window and was now moving about. To come downstairs? Would the searchers go to the front or come to the back?
I thought about, then dismissed, the idea of begging safety from the inhabitants. If they were not mercifully inclined, all they’d need to do was shout for help and I’d be collared in a wink. And if they were merciful, they faced a death sentence if caught hiding me.
No, what I had to do was get out without anyone knowing I’d been inside the house. And nippily, too.
Hearing the clatter of hooves and the jingle of harnesses and weapons, I edged close to the window and peered out again. All I could see was the movement of smeary colors, but it sounded like one riding had moved on. To divide up and start on the houses?
What about the other group?
Dark-hued stalks stood directly outside the window. Did one of them have a pale yellow top?
I could just see him standing there narrow eyed, looking around. Then maybe he’d glance at the window and see something flesh-colored and blue just inside the edge…
I closed my eyes, feeling a weird vertigo. Of course he couldn’t see me--it was dark inside and light out. That meant the window would be a blank, dark square to him. If he even gave it a look. I was letting fancy override my good sense, and if I didn’t stop it, his searchers would find me standing there daydreaming.
I took a deep breath--and the stalks outside the window began to move. Soon they were gone from sight, and nothing changed in the window at all. I heard no more feet or hooves or swords clanking in scabbards.
It was time for me to go.
My heart thumped in time to the pang in my temples as I opened the storeroom door, peeked out, then eased the outside door open. Nothing…nothing…I slipped out into the alley.
And saw two posted guards at the other end. They were at that moment looking the other way. I whisked myself behind a flowering shrub that bordered the street, wincing as I waited for the yells of “Stop! You!”
Nothing.
Breathing hard, I ran full speed back across the street and into the garden where I’d spent the night before. And with no better plan in mind, I sped along the paths to the shady section, found my fern, and crawled back in. The soil was still muddy and cold, but I didn’t mind; I curled up, closed my eyes, and tried to calm my panicking heart and aching head.
And slept.
And woke to the marching of feet and jingling of weaponry. Before I could move, there was a crackling of foliage and a spearhead thrust its way into my bush, scarcely an arm’s length above my head. It was withdrawn, the steps moved on, and I heard the smashing sound of another poke into the shrubbery there.
“This is my third time through here,” a low voice muttered.
“I tell you, if we don’t get a week’s leave when this is over, I’m going back to masonry. Just as much work, but at least you get enough time to sleep,” another voice returned.
There was a snorting laugh, then the footsteps moved on.
I lay in frightened relief, wondering what to do next. My tongue was sticky in my mouth, for I’d had nothing to drink since the night before, and of course nothing to eat but those few bites of the meat pie.
How much longer can I do this?
Until I get home, I told myself firmly.
I’d wait until dark, sneak out of that town, and never return. I’ll travel by night and go straight west, I decided. How I was to get food I didn’t know, but I was already so light-headed from hunger, all I could think of was getting away. "

― Sherwood Smith , Crown Duel (Crown & Court, #1)