“Alric! Stop it!" Pickering snapped at him. "You mustn't let the men see you crying!"Fury flared in Alric, and he spun on the count. "No? No? Look at them! They are dying for me. They are dying on my order! I say they do have a right to see their king! They all have a right to see their king!"Alric wiped the tears from his cheeks and gathered his reins. "I'm tired of this. I'm tired of having my face put in the dirt! I won't stand it. I'm tired of being helpless. That's my city, built by my ancestors! If my people chose to fight, then, by Maribor, I want them to know it's me they fight!"The prince put on his helm, drew his father's large sword and spurred his horse forward, not at the trench but at the castle gate itself.”

“Royce cast a harsh and anxious look at the prince.“What?” Alric asked.“I thought we discussed the importance of keeping a low profile.”“Oh, please.” The prince waved a hand at the thief. “I don’t think it willget me killed if this monk knows I’m the king. Look at him. I’ve seendrowned rats more formidable.”

“It was a trap after all,” Alric said. He turned to Royce. “My apologies for doubting your sound paranoia.”

“Alric looked up at the thief with a scowl. “I just want to say for the record that as far as royal protectors go, you’re not very good.”“It’s my first day,” Royce replied dryly.“And already I’m trapped in a timeless prison. I shudder to think what might have happened if you had a whole week.”

“You think he’s still alive?” Royce asked, nodding his head toward Alric.“Sure,” Hadrian replied without bothering to look. “He’s probably sleeping. Why do you ask?”“I was just pondering something. Do you think a person could smother in a wet potato bag?”Hadrian lifted his head and looked over at the motionless prince. “I really hadn’t thought about it until now.”

“Oh, it's nothing to be ashamed of. Slaying a villain in the service of your king is the stuff of legends and what heroes are made of." [Fanen told Myron]"It didn't feel very heroic. It made me sick. I don't even know why I... no, that's a lie. I really have to stop doing that." [Myron said]"Doing what?""Lying. (...) It's evidence of self loathing. You see, when you are so ashamed of your actions, thoughts, or intentions, you lie to hide it rather than accept yourself for who you really are. The idea of how others see you becomes more important than the reality of you. "It's like when a man would rather die than be thought of a coward. His life is not as important to him as his reputation. In the end, who is the braver? The man who dies rather than be thought of as a coward or the man who lives willing to face who he really is?" [Myron finished]"I'm sorry, you lost me there" Fanen said with a quizzical look.”

“How's your foot?” Hadrian asked.“It hurts.”“He had a good hold.”“Bit right through my boot.”“Yeah, that looked painful.”“So why exactly didn't you help?”Hadrian shrugged. “It was a dog, Royce. A cute, little dog. What did you want me to do, killan innocent little animal?”Royce tilted his head, squinting into the light of the late evening sun to focus on his friend.“Is that a joke?”“It was a puppy.”“It was not a puppy, and it was eating my foot.”“Yeah, but you were invading his home.” ....“You know, you didn't have to throw it out the window,” Hadrian said as they walked.Royce, who was still preoccupied with his foot, looked up. “What did you want me to dowith it? Scratch behind the little monster’s ears as it gnawed my toes off? What if it started barking?That would have been a fine mess.”“It's a good thing there was a moat right under the window.”Royce stopped. “There was?”