They were heading to see the children before bed. There'd been talk of commandeering a few city inns, but some of the older children had asked to stay in the palace grounds for a night or two.
"It is
so beautiful here," they'd said. "And so safe."
It was the last part that had swayed the emperor. So the children were there, under the care of nursemaids.
"My mother wishes you to dine with her," Tyrus said as they headed through the gate into the palace grounds. "For tea before we leave."
Moria said nothing. Daigo bumped against her, sensing her anxiety. When Tyrus looked over, she said, "Of course. If that is what she wishes, I will be . . . delighted?"
The last word rose as if in question, and Tyrus squeezed her hand.
"You will survive the encounter," he said. "My mother is not Dalain's. She won't devour you."
"I know. I . . ." Moria took a deep breath. "If she feels some obligation to host me, please assure her that I do not expect--"
"She wants to." He tugged her hand, steering her toward the children's quarters. "She is very anxious to meet the young woman her son has fallen madly in love with."
That was exactly what Moria feared.
"I--I will be honored to take tea with . . ." She trailed off, losing the words.
Tyrus turned her back against the guesthouse and put his hands on her hips. "What is the matter, Moria?"
"Nothing. I'm simply unsettled tonight and--" She paused and then blurted the words. "I fear I will not be what she expects. What she wants for her son. I fear I am not a proper consort for an imperial prince."
"Ah. Let's see. Could she find you not intelligent enough?" He met her gaze. "Impossible. Not strong enough? Impossible. Not pretty enough? That won't be one of her concerns, but again, I assure you, impossible. There are exactly two things my mother cares about: whether you make me happy and whether you are good to me. There is no question of either. You make me ecstatically happy, Moria. More than that, you make me a better person, a stronger person, a more decisive leader. I watch you with others, and I wish to emulate that."
"I, umm, don't think everyone would agree with my particular course of action . . ."
He grinned. "Too bad. My father did earlier today. I stood up to him, against all convention, because it was the honorable thing to do. Because I was following your lead. You make me a better person, Moria. And as for being good to me?" He leaned in, kissing her. "No one could be better. You know when I need comfort and when I need a kick in the arse. You care for me and you respect me, and I could ask for nothing more."
"And I love you."
His grin broadened, eyes sparkling in the moonlight. "Except perhaps that." He leaned down to kiss her. As he did, something thumped against the wall behind her, and he stopped short. Another thump from inside. Then a yelp and a hiss of pain. The sound of hand striking flesh and a child's voice saying, "Stop that!"
Tyrus sighed. "Seems the children may be safe from others here, but they are not safe from one another."
"They're restless and anxious," Moria said. "We'd best get in there before the fighting spreads."
FIFTY
The children were being kept in several guesthouses, each with a guard and two servants. As Moria and Tyrus approached the front door of the nearest one, Tyrus was nearly knocked flying by the exiting guard. The man barreled past without pause and headed into the darkness of the palace grounds.
As Moria watched the guard, her gut twisted with anxiety. She'd been on edge ever since they'd been escorted through the imperial gate, as if unable to believe it had gone so well, expecting dagger-wielding assassins behind every post. It would pass, and she'd accept their good fortune, but it did not take much for her to feel that worry again.
"Perhaps he did not recognize you," Moria said.
"No," Tyrus said grimly. "Not everyone will accept my father's word on my situation. They will still wonder if I am a traitor. I will expect that but not tolerate it. I'll speak to the man tomorrow."
They entered the guesthouse. All was silent and dark. The hair on Moria's neck rose. Daigo growled. Tyrus frowned as he looked about.
"Hello?" he said.
A head popped from around the doorway. An Edgewood girl named Chera. She rubbed her eyes, sleepily, then saw who it was and ran out, saying, "Moria!" and threw herself--not at Moria, but at Daigo, who huffed in alarm. Tyrus laughed as the girl buried her face in Daigo's fur. Moria reached over and patted her head.
"Everything is well, Chera?"