As Angel’s Daughter wandered, she encountered a merchant in the woods. “What is he doing here?” she murmured to herself, but somehow the merchant heard her.

  “Do I hear a customer?” he called out, his voice cheerful.

  Angel’s Daughter tried to remain quiet, hoping he would move on.

  “It’s hard to hide from someone who has what you need,” the merchant said, looking directly at her. “Come, let us do business.”

  Realizing he would not leave until she revealed herself, Angel’s Daughter stepped out of hiding. “What makes you think you have something I need?” she asked, trying to keep her face concealed.

  “I see you—a wounded soul who wants to hide from the world,” he replied, pausing to let his words sink in. “And to do that, you’ll need a subtler outfit, something to help you blend in.” He stopped and pulled a cloak from his bag, one that would surely help her go unnoticed.

  “What do you want in exchange?” she asked. “I have no money and I’m in no position to work for any.”

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  The merchant smiled. “I don’t want money,” he said. “I’m offering a trade.” Angel’s Daughter couldn’t imagine what the merchant would want from her, but she listened. “This cloak, plus—” he paused as he pulled some other things from his bag “—this venom extractor. It can take the deadliest snake and drain it of all its venom. It will be very useful for someone who—"he hesitated “—intends to kill.” He paused for a moment, perhaps to let his words sink in, perhaps because he was thinking; Angel’s Daughter wasn’t sure.

  She spoke up. “You still haven’t told me what you want from me.”

  The merchant smiled. “I want your invictus armor.”

  Angel’s Daughter was shocked. The merchant continued, “The outfit and armor of a chief royal guard is very hard to come by, let alone a full invictus set it will fetch a hefty price.”

  Angel’s Daughter agreed to trade her armor, after adding a set of tight black clothes and 100 gold pieces to the price. That would be enough to allow her to do what she needed before she could finally rest. After trading the armor and outfit, she changed into the cloak and new set of black clothes, making sure her dagger was fastened tightly to her belt, which the merchant had not been interested in, for it was a common belt she had bought separately to go with her old outfit.

  “Pleasure doing business with you,” the merchant said, before seemingly fading into the mist. A month ago, she would have been surprised that someone could vanish before her eyes, but now she simply walked away—this was nothing short of the usual now.

  She didn’t realize it yet but she soon would come to the realization that he too would have to die because he knew who she was.