I wore black, too, including a pair of leather trousers donated by one of the squires. “Skirts won’t do, halfling,” Varick had said when he brought them to me. He’d rubbed his mouth and muttered “fuck” when I appeared in the courtyard wearing them a few minutes later. “Are they too tight?” I’d asked, craning my head over my shoulder as I struggled to see. He’d cursed again and promptly thrown a cloak around my shoulders. “It’s more a matter of them making mine too tight.” His eyes had glinted dangerously as he tossed me none-too-gently into the saddle. “You’re going to wear those for me when
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