“You’re too visible, Albert,” Hadrian explained. “Can’t afford to have our favorite noble hauled to some dungeon where they cut off your eyelids or pull off your fingernails until you tell them what we’re up to.”“But if they torture me, and I don’t know the plan, how will I save myself?”“I’m sure they’ll believe you after the fourth nail or so,” Royce said with a wicked grin.”

“So,” Royce said, “you want us to escape from this prison, kidnap the king, cross the countryside with him in tow while dodging soldiers who I assume might not accept our side of the story, and go to another secret prison so that he can visit an inmate?”Arista did not appear amused. “Either that, or you can be tortured to death in four hours.”“Sounds like a really good plan to me,” Hadrian declared.“Royce?”“I like any plan where I don’t die a horrible death.”

“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.”

“If this keeps up, we’re going to own Melengar,” Hadrian mentioned.“What’s this we stuff?” Royce asked. “You’re retired, remember?”“Oh? So you’ll be leading the Nationalist advance, will you?”“Sixty-forty?” Royce proposed.”

“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.”

“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?”

“Royce nodded. “Invest in crossbows. Next time stay hidden and just put a couple bolts into each of your target’s chests. All this talking is just stupid.”“Royce!” Hadrian admonished.“What? You’re always saying I should be nicer to people. I’m trying to be helpful.”