As hurt as she was, she couldn’t bring herself to say the rest. You’re a thief. A criminal. Ronan still recoiled, his gaze lowering, but not before she caught a glimpse of pain.
I may have no experience with kisses, but he lies if he says that was a simple farewell. He changed his mind, and he does not have the integrity to be honest with me. He makes me feel the fool. So I’ll not retract my words.
He didn’t look at her as he said, “Whatever you were about to say, I am that. And more. Or, perhaps, less. I…” He closed his mouth, paused, and then said, “Do you wish me to return to the city? Or continue along to Fairview?”
“Why do you ask me?” she snapped. “You came for money not —” She bit off the words, but it was too late. His gaze swung to her eyes and she knew he’d caught the anger in them, the hurt.
“Ashyn…” he said.
“Do as you will,” she said and walked away with Tova.
TWELVE
They’d stopped for their midday meal. While Moria hated the pause, the horses needed the break, and she would never argue to overwork the horses.
Tyrus and Moria sat away from the others, ostensibly giving Daigo a chance to prowl the nearby woods, though in truth Moria had suggested it because she suspected Tyrus needed a break from playing the amicable prince. He always took time to ride with the others, out of both imperial responsibility and natural camaraderie, but that morning, it had seemed more of the first. Now, as they ate, he lapsed into silence, idly fingering the dangling ends of his amulet band.
“Thinking of your mother?” Moria asked between mouthfuls of cold rice.
He glanced up, as if startled.
She nodded at the band, then said, “You’ve been quiet since the monks, and I noticed you watching when we passed the road to Seven Oaks. That’s where she’s gone on her pilgrimage, isn’t it?”
A faint smile. “Excellent deduction. Yes, I was thinking she’ll be home soon, and she will not be pleased with my father. He’s been talking about sending me on a mission since the winter. She asked him to wait until I passed my next summer.”
“And you’ve wanted to go sooner.”
“I have, which makes me glad she wasn’t there. Not that she could have stopped my father from sending me but… It’s awkward.”
“You’re her only child, and you’re constantly in danger. She fears adding to that. And you fear having to tell her you’re ready.”
“Hmm.” He stretched out his legs and squinted toward the forest until he caught sight of Daigo. Then he looked back at Moria. “I don’t like causing friction between her and my father. It’s a difficult enough relationship as it is.”
“Because she’s a concubine, not a wife. Yet she’s also the mother of an imperial prince.”
“It isn’t an easy life, and there are times…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “To solidify his position, an emperor must make choices that I personally disagree with. The taking of concubines is one. Fathering sons by them is another. Yet the concubines allow political alliances that the empire requires and the children provide additional heirs and bolster his reputation for virility, which is important. For a warrior to be unable to have children, preferably sons…”
Moria remembered Gavril saying he was his father’s only child, despite three successive marriages. That had reflected poorly on Alvar Kitsune, particularly compared to the emperor’s brood. It excused nothing, but it might help explain the resentment that had grown between the two friends.
“It would be difficult,” she said carefully, “to see your mother suffer for choices your father had to make.”
“It is. There’s a reason I’m her only child. She has… avoided having others.”
“By avoiding your father’s sleeping pallet?” Moria paused. “Or is that an indiscreet question? I think Ashyn would say it is.”
Tyrus laughed softly, relaxing as he leaned back, his ponytail brushing the ground. “With an emperor, such matters are as open as his daily schedule. If you listen to court gossip, you will hear that he has indeed not visited my mother’s quarters in seventeen summers. Which, I suspect, is true. They don’t meet at her quarters. Or at his.”
“Ah.”
“Yes, if you recall when you first arrived, my mother was on her pilgrimage and my father was taking a couple of days away from court business. My mother is a very devout woman, but” – he winked – “not as devout as all her pilgrimages would suggest.”
“But by avoiding each other’s quarters, your mother does not incur the jealousy of the other wives and concubines. She focuses on her life of faith, and is not seen as a threat. Just as you focus on your martial training rather than politics.”
“Her example has taught me the best path for those who have no interest in a high position. It is still a… confining life. My mother is an artist. You’ve seen her work in my father’s quarters, although no one knows it’s hers. She is cautious with her appearance as well, never wearing the latest styles or fixing her hair in the latest fashion. She loves my father, though, and he returns her affection. More than that, they are comfortable with each other, which is no small thing in an imperial family.”
“She wants nothing from him. As you want nothing from him.” Moria moved closer, their legs brushing. “While this mission of yours may upset things between them, it is a storm that must be weathered eventually. You will finish this mission, and return victorious. Your father will be pleased, your mother placated, and you will officially be a man, a true warrior.”