That man had become a problem.

Quinn couldn't believe what he was witnessing between Jian, the woman who was supposed to love him, and her hired sword. Madrigal never let Jian out of his sight, and his mannerisms set Quinn's teeth on edge. Not only did Jian lay her bedroll beside Madrigal's—a total stranger!—she looked at the dark-haired man with something very much like adulation in her eyes.

This wasn't at all how things were supposed to go.

Quinn even found himself wondering, for a breath, whether Madrigal had cast some northern magic over his beloved. The man, after all, was supremely suspicious—he was clearly hiding a past Quinn doubted Jian knew anything about. Madrigal didn't behave like a Kesmettan, and Quinn had plenty of experience with them. His rough clothing and manner of speaking reminded Quinn all too much of his own days on the northeastern frontier, in Brill, where one misstep could be enough to have you thrown from the cliffs at Land's End. Quinn had seen it. Quinn had lived it.

And he didn't appreciate the woman he loved staring doe-eyed at such a man, hanging on his every word.

Quinn flexed his hand, clenching sinewy fingers into a fist. This body might not have seen combat, but it was young and strong, and the reflexes were still there, unblunted despite the long period of relative calm. He'd be able to take Madrigal, if the situation called for it. If Jian hadn't been so attached, Quinn might have escorted Madrigal back to Aspen over his shoulder and deposited the scoundrel there to find his own way home.

Even more than Jian's obvious infatuation with Madrigal, what Quinn truly couldn't stand was the way she dismissed Quinn himself. Nevertheless, forcing things would do him no good. He'd made this bed, and now he'd have to lie in it.

As soon as he took care of the interloper.

When they laid out their bedrolls that evening, Quinn replaced Madrigal's with his own, only to have the other man switch them back. When he sat beside Jian near the fire, Madrigal inserted himself between Jian and Quinn, even though there was hardly space for three. And when Jian finally nodded off that night, her shoulders rising and falling with each deep breath, the two men both stood up in the darkness, as if both had been waiting for the other to make the first move.

"I'm not going to warn you again," Quinn said in a low voice.

Madrigal ignored him, walking away from the camp without looking back, as if to further stoke Quinn's irritation. Or—to lure him into a trap? The ragged swordsman would be in for a surprise if he thought Quinn defenseless. It gave Quinn a pleasant feeling of satisfaction to imagine what he might do to Madrigal in retaliation if the man attacked him among the trees.

Such a person should never have been trusted with Jian. The Elders had failed her—Quinn himself had failed her.

The swordsman stood with his back to Quinn, as if daring him to make the first move. Well, Quinn wasn't going to do that, or anything else Madrigal could run to Jian about in the morning. If Madrigal was the kind of man Quinn thought he was, he wouldn't be waiting long before Jian would see for herself what kind of person she'd fallen in with.

"You may be her so-called partner," Madrigal said, "but she didn't see you in her vision. Leave the poor girl alone."

"Me!?" Shock coursed through Quinn. "You're the one who doesn't belong here. You just swooped in out of nowhere and targeted a fragile girl."

"Fragile?" Madrigal's dark eyebrows rose up into his curly fringe. "You really don't know anything about her at all, do you?"

"I know more than you'll ever hope to."

"No, I don't think that's true at all," Madrigal said with a smirk. "I don't blame you, since you'll believe anything your Goddess tells you. I get it. But if you want to get to know Jian, you'll stop acting like you own her."

"You're the one who calls her 'Princess.'" Quinn spat the word as if it tasted bitter in his mouth.

"That's a joke, if it wasn't obvious. She's more capable than most men I've met. Hardly fragile."

Quinn knew, of course, that he was right, even though he wouldn't say so to this cad. "I'm saying that if you do anything to hurt her, I'll personally make you pay."

"You will?" Madrigal's posture was open, relaxed; yet Quinn could feel his scathing glare. "I was just thinking if you did anything to her, I was going to make you pay."

It galled Quinn that this miscreant would even suggest a reversal of their roles. Bad enough for Jian to favour him, but if Madrigal thought he was some kind of hero, he was deluded. And no man of a Holy Village would use a phrase like "your Goddess." Madrigal wasn't just a threat to Quinn and Jian's partnership—he was an unbeliever, to boot.

And Quinn had encountered plenty of those back in Brill. Jian had struggled enough with her Path; she didn't need anyone else undermining her beliefs. Madrigal was a danger.

Quinn could only hope, if Jian insisted having him along, he could find a way to protect her.

"Guess what else?" Madrigal grinned, and Quinn knew he wasn't going to like what the other had to say.

"What?"

"Jian has a brain, and she knows how to use it. Keep this up, and she might decide she'd rather make her own Path than follow someone else's."

"That isn't how it works." Quinn's throat was dry. He'd underestimated this man. "She...we're destined to be together. I saw it. She loves me, and I her."

"You don't sound too certain, all of a sudden. Maere told you to love each other, after all."

"She did not!" Quinn's fists clenched. Madrigal knew nothing, and now here he was, acting like he knew Jian better than Quinn did. Better than Jian knew herself.

"Didn't she? Isn't that was Pathfinding is?"

Quinn couldn't explain to this man why their situation was different. How he knew Jian was the missing piece of himself. How he'd intended to right the wrongs he'd done, and prove to her that he'd be loyal forever.

"If you want her to see you as the man you say you are," Madrigal invited with an open hand, "then win her attention fairly, not with tales of your dreams about her. Otherwise, why would she want to be with you?"

"Because I love her." Blood rushed to Quinn's cheeks. "And if she gives me a chance, I know she'll love me, too."

"That's her choice to make. Or is it Maere's choice? You say it isn't."

"She'd never choose you, so I don't know why you're even getting involved." Quinn said, but the fire had gone out of his voice. Would she? Over him?

It was true, Jian didn't yet know Quinn from any other wanderer on the street. They'd only now begun sharing a history.

"She'll choose anyone she likes." Madrigal's face hardened. "So if you want her to even look your way, I'd play a little nicer with her friends."