“Well, whatever. I’m helping you even if you don’t want me to.” He grabbed the logbook and started filling it out.

With his help, everything was put away and accounted for within a matter of minutes, leaving only my clothing and laptop in my bag. I started to pull on my heavy winter boots and jacket, and Ridley told me to wait there for a second. He came back wearing his charcoal-gray peacoat and slick black boots.

“I’ll walk you home,” he said.

“You sure?”

He nodded. “I’m done for the night, and you don’t live that far anyhow.”

That was an understatement. My place was a two-minute walk from the garage. Ridley lived farther than that, but honestly, most people in Doldastam did.

The night had grown even colder, and Ridley popped up the collar of his jacket and shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked. I was smart enough to wear a hat, so I didn’t mind it so much. The snow crunched beneath our boots as we slowly walked down the cobblestone road toward my loft.

I turned to him and couldn’t help but admire him in the moonlight—tall and strong with the beginnings of a light scruff. Ridley’s looks could be a distraction if I allowed them to be. Fortunately, I was a master at reining in useless, dangerous feelings like attraction, and I looked away from him.

“I’m not gonna be in trouble, am I?” I asked.

Ridley looked over at me like I was insane. “Why would you be in trouble?”

“Because I’m not sure that the Berlings will be able to get Linus’s money now. He’s a few days shy of eighteen, and there’s no telling what’ll happen to his trust fund.”

“You got him home safely. That’s the most important thing,” he said. “Everything after that is icing.”

“So you think I did the right thing by taking him home early?”

“Absolutely.” Ridley stopped walking, so I did too, and he looked down at me. Our path was lit by lanterns and the moonlight, and I could see the sincerity in his chestnut eyes. “You have great instincts, Bryn. If you thought that Linus was in real danger, then he was. And who knows what Konstantin Black would’ve done with him?”

“I know.” I sighed. “I mean, I do. But what if his parents don’t feel the same way?”

“The Berlings aren’t like that, and if they are…” He shrugged. “Screw ’em. You protected their son, and that’s all that should matter.”

I smiled. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He smiled back at me, then motioned to the barn just up the road. “Now go up and get some sleep, and don’t forget about the meeting in the morning.”

“See you tomorrow, Ridley.”

“Good night.”

I turned and jogged toward the barn, but he stayed where he was in the street, waiting until I’d made it inside safely. The lower level of the barn was a stable, but the stairway along the side of the building led up to a small loft apartment, and that was where I lived.

It was chilly inside, since I’d turned down the heat because I’d planned on being in Chicago for a month or more. Before I took my coat off, I threw a couple logs in the wood-burning stove and got it going. I had a furnace, of course, but the natural heat always seemed to feel better.

I could hear the Tralla horses downstairs, their large hooves stomping on the concrete of the barn, and their neighing and rustling as they settled in for the night. The Tralla horses were huge workhorses the Kanin had brought over from Scandinavia centuries ago, and they stood even larger than Clydesdales, with broad shoulders, long manes, and thick tufts of fur around their hooves.

The horses in the stable all belonged to the King and Queen, and, like most Tralla horses, they were only used for show, pulling a carriage through town if the Queen was making a visit or marching in a parade.

They could be ridden, and I did ride one horse—Bloom—as often as I had the chance. Bloom was a younger steed with silvery gray fur. Even as tired as I was, I wanted to go down to say hello to him, maybe brush his fur while he nuzzled against me, searching my pockets for hidden carrots or apples.

But I knew I had to be up for the meeting, so I figured I’d better postpone my reunion with Bloom until the next day.

Instead, I settled in and put the rest of my things away. My apartment was small, taking up only a quarter of the loft space. A wall separated my place from the room where the hay bales and some horse equipment were stored.

But I didn’t need that much space. I had my bed, a worn couch, a wardrobe, a couple shelves overflowing with books, and a chair and a desk where I put my laptop. Those were the only things I really needed.

While I waited for the loft to warm up, I changed into my pajamas. I’d decided that it was about as warm as it would get when I heard footsteps thudding up the steps. Based on the speed and intensity—like a herd of small but anxious elephants—I guessed that it either had to be a major emergency or it was Ember Holmes.

“Bryn!” Ember exclaimed as she threw the door open, and then she ran over and threw her arms around me, squeezing me painfully tight. “I’m so glad you’re okay!”

“Thanks,” I managed to squeak out as she hugged me.

Then as abruptly as she’d grabbed me, she let go. She’d barely even stepped back when she swatted me hard on the arm.

“Ow.” I rubbed my arm and scowled at her. “What the hell?”

“Why didn’t you call and tell me you were coming home?” Ember demanded, staring up at me with piercing dark eyes and her hands on her hips. “I had to hear about it from Ridley that you’d been attacked and were leaving early.”