She needed clothes. The rags stained with mud and dried semen from the Rogue were no good for a queen.

I arrived at the back of the single women's barracks. A clothesline swayed in the night breeze.

I smiled.

I moved forward quickly and silently. My hands scanned the hanging clothes. I discarded the loose dresses I used to wear to hide my body. I didn't want to hide anymore.

My fingers closed over a pair of tight black jeans and a scarlet red top. They were Sara's. I knew they'd be too small fo