Two of the emperor’s bastard sons had already died from paying an unhealthy amount of attention to matters of court. Tyrus aspired to be a warrior – a great one. Nothing less and nothing more.
“Yes,” Tyrus said. “But I suggested finding a place where we could speak privately. Which you refused.”
“Because I won’t involve you.”
“I said I wish to be involved.”
“And I said I would not allow it.”
They locked gazes, but she would not back down. If he wanted to give her sword lessons, she would not object to that. If he wanted to befriend her, she would not object to that. If he wanted to be more than a friend… well, that was open to consideration. Her sister deemed such matters affairs of the heart, to be approached with great care and forethought. To Moria, the heart did not enter into it. If Tyrus fancied her and she fancied him, she could use lessons in more than fighting techniques.
There was only one role she would not allow Tyrus to play: her champion. In court, everyone wanted something from you. She would not be part of that. She enjoyed Tyrus’s company because his company was worth enjoying, not because he was a prince. She would do nothing to suggest otherwise.
“My father has sent spies,” Tyrus said. “Two, to take separate routes, in case one is captured. He expects word from them at any moment. You may have noticed he is entertaining guests?”
Moria said nothing.
“I’m sure you’re fuming at the emperor for throwing lavish parties while the children of your village suffer. He does no such thing, Moria. He entertains the Sultan of Nemeth and the King of Etaria. Minor principalities near the Katakana Mountains, where the Kitsunes once ruled. Both men were close friends of Alvar Kitsune. Someone has been sheltering him since his escape from the Forest of the Dead.”
“Your father thinks it’s one of them,” Ronan said. “That’s why they’re here. So he can decide which is guilty.”
Tyrus nodded and watched Moria, waiting for her to ask questions. She had a hundred of them. And to protect Tyrus, she’d ask not a one.
“He’s doing what he can,” Tyrus said. “He’s not a perfect ruler, but he is a very good one. I know you think I’m only saying that because he’s my father. But did he seem incompetent when you spoke to him? Did he seem uncaring? Did he seem to underestimate the threat?”
She shifted on the crate.
“I know you are frustrated,” he said. “But there is no reason for you to go to Fairview. If it would help you to speak to my father, I can arrange an audience.”
“No.”
“I would be discreet about it. Allow me to —”
“No,” she said, getting to her feet. She turned to Ronan. “I’ll convey your regards to my sister. Please convey mine to your family. Thank you for meeting with me.”
She glanced for Daigo, but he was already at her side. She walked off, stiffly, leaving the two young men behind.
THREE
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.”