“It’s not that we don’t trust you,” Royce said as Hadrian prepared the bow. “It’s just that we’ve learned over the years that honor among nobles is usually inversely proportionate to their rank. As a result, we prefer to rely on more concrete methods for motivations—such as self-preservation. You already know we don’t want you dead, but if you have ever been riding full tilt and had a horse buckle under you, you understand that death is always a possibility, and broken bones are almost a certainty.”“There’s also the danger of missing the horse completely,” Hadrian added. “I’m a good shot, but even the best archers have bad days. So to answer your question—yes, you can control your own horse.”

“As they climbed into their saddles, Myron bowed his head and muttered a soft prayer.“There,” Hadrian told Royce, “we’ve got Maribor on our side. Now you can relax.”“Actually,” Myron said sheepishly, “I was praying for the horses. But I will pray for you as well,” he added hastily.”

“Hadrian leapt to his feet. Royce was already up.“Don’t bother,” Esrahaddon told them. “She’s dead, and there’s nothing you can do. The monster cannot be harmed by your weapons. It—”The two were out the door.”

“Have you ever been in love, Hadrian?”“I’m not sure. How do you tell?”“Love? Why, it’s like coming home.”Hadrian considered the comment.“What are you thinking?” Bulard asked.Hadrian shook his head. “Nothing.”“Yes, you were. What? You can tell me. I’m an excellent repository for secrets. I’ll likely forget, but if I don’t, well, I’m an old man in a remotejungle. I’m sure to die before I can repeat anything.”Hadrian smiled, then shrugged. “I was just thinking about the rain.”

“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?”

“You don’t win battles with hate. Anger and hate can make you brave, make you strong, but they also make you stupid. You end up tripping over your own two feet.” (Hadrian)”

“There you are!” he shouted at them. “Father has half the castle turnedout looking for you.”“Us?” Hadrian asked.“Yes.” Fanen nodded. “He wants to see the two thieves in his chambersright away.”“You didn’t steal the silver or anything, did you, Royce?” Hadrianasked.“I would bet it has more to do with your flirting with Lenare this afternoonand threatening Mauvin just to show off,” Royce retorted.“That was your fault,” Hadrian said, jabbing his finger at him.”