When Tyrus did not come after her, Moria thought he was leaving her to whatever trouble would befall her for sneaking away from court. That was her ill mood speaking. It seemed he’d only stayed behind to speak to Ronan, and Moria had barely reached the market square before he fell in at her side.
Tyrus didn’t pursue the conversation again. Instead he played city guide, pointing out landmarks and explaining the history. No dry, architectural lectures. Moria doubted he knew any. Like her, he favored tales of danger and daring and told her those—a duel fought here, a notorious bandit hideout there.
Nearly everyone they passed seemed to recognize him. Yet there were no bows or murmurs of respect. No cries for alms or favors. They saw Tyrus and quickly looked away. Moria kept Daigo at her side and left her hood down, and no one said a word to her.
She was certain her appearance with Tyrus would be commented on, in whispers and rumors. While the Keeper could not marry, she could take lovers. The prince would marry as his father wished, but he was not expected to eschew female company until then. The court already whispered of how much time the two spent together. Now the city would. And Moria and Tyrus would not discourage it because it meant his brothers would soon call off their spies, realizing there was no political angle here, simply a young man and young woman courting.
When they reached the palace, Tyrus didn’t ask how she’d slipped past the guards. He went straight to her point of escape—the servants’ gate.
“A word of advice,” he said as they approached it. “While I’d prefer you to ask me along on your next unauthorized excursion, if you do go alone, you will find it much harder to return through this gate unnoticed. In fact, I’d say it’s impossible.”
The guards at the small gate were already moving forward. Then they saw Daigo and got a closer look at Tyrus, and they dipped their chins and gazes, welcoming the prince as he passed through.
“They hardly need to worry about spies and assassins exiting court,” Tyrus continued after greeting the guards. “But you will not get back in without revealing yourself.”
“So what are the other routes?”
His lips curved. “Did I say there were any?”
“You implied it.”
“Perhaps. And the next time you wish to leave, you have only to tell me, and I will show you . . . and go with you.”
“I’m quite safe in the city.”
“But is the city safe when you are in it? That’s the question.” He glanced up at the sound of harsh footsteps clacking over the stone path. “I will handle this.”
She was about to say “Handle what?” when five figures rounded a building, bearing down on them. In the lead was a stout, gray-haired man—the minister of the imperial household. Two of his stewards flanked him. All three walked quickly, their faces set in expressions so grim one would expect they were headed to a public flogging. Yet no face was as grim as the fourth. A young woman dressed in a simple but elegant silk dress, her red-gold hair flowing almost to her waist, her blue eyes so chill Moria decided that if it was a public flogging, the girl would ask to wield the strap herself.
“I think I’m in trouble,” Moria murmured.
Daigo grunted beside her, and when he did, the fifth figure—a huge yellow hound walking beside the girl—gave an answering growl.
“My lady Keeper,” the minister said in his soft, steel-laced voice. “We had heard—”
“—that she escaped into the city and was raising untold havoc in the market?” Tyrus said. “I fear it is true.”
The minister stopped short, his sandals squeaking. He’d apparently been too intent on his target to take a closer look at the person accompanying her.
“Prince Tyrus,” he said.
“Yes, I’m the one causing trouble today. Or, at least, causing the trouble that caused the trouble. I wanted to show Moria the marketplace. She insisted on looking at books. I failed to see the attraction so I fear I wandered off. That is when the incident occurred. A man was harassing a young girl, and Moria stopped him.” He paused. “You may wish to have the minister of justice send someone to investigate. It seems it’s not the first time the man has done such a thing. He’ll need some sort of disciplinary action, and it may be best if the merchants aren’t allowed to administer it themselves. They were quite angry. And quite grateful to Moria.”
“I’m sure they were.” The minister turned stiffly to Moria. “Thank you for your intervention, my lady. The people will appreciate it.”
Moria snuck a look at her sister. Ashyn’s face was still stern, but her eyes had lost their chill. She mouthed something to Moria.
“And I, um, apologize for causing a disturbance,” Moria said with a slow bow.
“It was for a good cause,” Tyrus said. “As for taking the Keeper out of the court, that falls entirely on me. She was bored, and I wished to impress her.” A disarming grin. “One can’t blame me for that.” He walked to Ashyn. “I apologize for stealing your sister away, my lady.”
Ashyn’s look said she knew full well what had happened. “No apology needed, your highness.”
“I offer it anyway,” he said with a half bow. Then he turned to the men. “Does that clear up the matter, minister?”
“It does.”
“I’ll understand if you wish to report it to my father. I did act impetuously and did spirit the Keeper out against his orders.”
“Young men are impetuous,” the minister said. “Particularly when it comes to young women. I see no reason to tell your imperial father.”
“I will remember that. Thank you.” He turned to Ashyn. “I leave your sister in your care. Be gentle with her. We have a sparring appointment later this afternoon, and I’ll be hard enough on her then.”
He took his leave. The minister and his stewards followed without a word to Moria.
Once they were gone, Moria pulled a book from her cloak pocket and handed it to her sister. “I got this for you.”
Ashyn gave her a withering look as her hound, Tova, grumbled under his breath as if to say that was a poor try, a very poor try.
“And I saw Ronan.”
Ashyn went still. “You saw . . .”
“Ronan. That’s where I was going. To meet him, because he deserved an update, and you refused to provide one.”
“Because we’re not supposed to leave the court. You didn’t tell him—Did you say I wouldn’t meet with him? If you—”
“Of course not.” Moria waved for them to start back to their suite. “I told him you were busy, and it may have had something to do with that handsome courtier I saw you speaking to the other day.”
Ashyn’s eyes flashed with outrage. “I did not speak to any—” She caught her sister’s smile. “You’re not funny, Rya. Not at all.”
“Oh, but you are. Tell me again how you think of Ronan only as a friend. A dear, kind friend . . . who just happened to kiss you good-bye the last time you saw him.”
“I should never have told you that.”
“You’d have burst otherwise. So tell me again how you are not thinking of him, not pining for him.”
“You make me sound like the fainting heroine in one of your ridiculous bard tales.”
“The lovely fair maiden, bound by destiny to a life of spiritual service, pining for the dashing thief, who escaped his fate, only to be torn from her side—”
“He hasn’t escaped his fate,” Ashyn muttered. “He’s out there, hiding like a criminal, when all he has to do is let us speak to the emperor on his behalf, and he’d be a hero.”
“Which would make a very happy end to the story. Unless the emperor doesn’t pardon him, but throws him into the dungeons as an escaped criminal. Given the choice, I can see why Ronan’s not eager to take the chance.”
“He would be spared. He’s being stubborn.”
Ashyn opened the door to their quarters.
“I suppose you don’t want to hear what he said about you?” Moria said. “What message he wished me to convey?”
“Message?”
Moria laughed and continued into their rooms, with Ashyn trailing after her.