Ronan glowered. "Which is anytime you don't like what you're told to do."
Tyrus grinned. "True." He clapped Ronan on the back. "I was simply keeping an eye on those three, so we don't lose them."
"That would be the idea, your highness. To lose them. Which means they lose you."
"Testy, aren't you?"
"Because this could have been avoided if you'd heeded our warnings--"
"I did heed your warning. I hid back here, didn't I?"
Ronan's glower deepened. Of course Tyrus knew that wasn't what he meant. The prince might claim no head for politics and machinations, but he could be as conniving as any courtier. His trick was to smile and charm and, if needed, play the fool. And, ultimately, get his way because he was indeed as obstinate as her sister. If Moria was a lightning storm--meeting every obstacle with fire and thunder--Tyrus was a steady spring rain--calmly but steadily wearing away everything in his path.
"We need information," Tyrus continued, ignoring Ronan's scowl. "If those men hope to collect a bounty on me--"
"Bounty
?" Ronan said.
"Of course. They're bounty hunters. Did you not see the beads on their forelocks?"
When Ronan looked at him blankly, Tyrus said, "It signifies that they are imperial bounty hunters. It's a secret society, but as with all such things, that secrecy is often more a hope than reality. If you've not heard of them, then I suppose they aren't quite as well-known as my father fears."
"Your father has set a bounty on you?" Guin said.
"My father has nothing to do with such matters. And I cannot imagine there is a bounty on my head at all. I think those men recognized me, and they were trying to decide what to do about it. The trick now is to confirm that, find out what they know, and enlist their aid in getting me safely back to the imperial city."
"And if I think that's a very poor idea?" Ronan said.
Tyrus smiled. "I'd be disappointed if you didn't. Your task is to watch over me, which includes exercising caution when I do not."
"But does not include you actually listening to me when I do?"
"I listened when you told me to get off the road, didn't I? I'm listening to your counsel now. I'm not planning to march out there and ask them to return me to the imperial city."
"Then what do you plan to do?" Ashyn asked.
Tyrus explained.
TWENTY-NINE
Ashyn and Guin stood by a tree, far enough from the road to hear only the murmur of voices and the clatter of wagons. Tova lay at Ashyn's feet. Daigo was, as always, with Tyrus, who was . . . elsewhere.
"I don't understand it," Guin was saying. "There's a freedom to dresses that trousers simply don't have. I don't care if women may wear trousers now; I cannot wait to be out of these."
"Trousers are certainly better for horseback riding. Nor would I want to walk any great distance in a dress. But I'll admit I'll be happy to put one on again. And the ones at court are certainly prettier than any pair of trousers. I've had fine dresses, but those were quite spectacular."
"Tell me about them," Guin said.
While Ashyn was playing a role, chattering with her "maidservant," Guin clearly found the conversation to her liking. Ashyn had to admit it was not particularly a chore to talk about pretty dresses. The ones she'd been given at court had been the stuff of dreams, though at the time, she'd been too worried about the children to enjoy them properly. Now, as she waxed eloquent on the fabrics and cuts--and Guin responded with increasing delight--she was so caught up in the conversation that she forgot it was staged.
When Ronan darted toward them, winding his way through the elm grove, she grinned at him . . . and then caught his expression of alarm, forgetting that this too was part of the act. Fortunately, by saying "What's wrong?" with genuine concern, she was playing her role.
"They're still hunting for the prince," Ronan said, not lowering his voice. "We need to get him out of here."
"Where will we take him?" Ashyn asked.
"I don't know. Just get on your mount and let's go."