After the meal, Anya left the house to get Sassy. On her way to the stable, the appraiser, Gelvin, stopped her.
"Hello, Anya," he said calmly. Anya frowned at him.
"Do I know you?" she asked.
"Gelvin Warstone. We lived near each other in Wind's Grove."
"Oh!" Anya recalled him now. They knew each other as children. "Um, is there something I can do for you?"
"Yes, there is," Gelvin said. He inspected his nails idly. "You were working as a Royal Concubine. Judging by the fine nature of that mare, you took her from the Royal Stables when you fled. I'm guessing the new ruler would like you both back at the Royal Palace, particularly given the mare's condition." Anya didn't know what Gelvin was referring to, with Sassy's "condition", but she let it slide and focused on the bigger issue.
"I am assuming the price for your silence is whatever it is you want from me," she said. Gelvin nodded. She sighed. "Very well. What is it?"
Gelvin smirked.