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remembered.”
    “As I said, you’re mistaken. I’ve heard of the Orwells, and you can find them in the king’s forest.” Sebastian bowed his head and feinted right, but Turren jumped in the way.
    “I could bring you to the City Watch and have them order you to remove your hood.”
    Fed up with Turren’s persistence, Sebastian shoved his palm into the royal’s nose. Prince Turren moved his head in time, but Sebastian now had enough room to flee. He sprinted out of the alley and kept running until Renan was just a shadow on the horizon.
     
     
    S EBASTIAN TOOK out his spyglass again and spotted the brown cloak. I could cry. I could genuinely fucking cry. False turns, unused hunting paths, and the prince was still on his trail. Sebastian gave up and built a small fire in the woods. He unwrapped a fish from spelled leaves that kept it fresh and skewered it for his supper. While it roasted, Sebastian dug in his bag for a plate and waited. Nothing stirred in the trees until only a skeleton remained of his dinner.
    Turren stood on the opposite side of the flames and licked his lips. “Would it be too much to—”
    “Yes,” Sebastian answered without looking at him.
    “I only wanted to know if you had more.” Prince Turren sat down on the grass across from Sebastian. “It should be okay for me to sit.”
    Sebastian pulled a blanket out of his bag. “It’s your inheritance.”
    “You don’t treat me like it is.”
    “You’ll get my false respect when your father dies and you become king.”
    Turren frowned. “Can we not talk about my father dying? That’s just bad luck.”
    “Of course you’re the superstitious kind,” Sebastian said. “I’m going to sleep. Stay on your side of the fire.”
    “Why did you save me?”
    “I didn’t.”
    Turren grunted disbelievingly.
    “Maybe your cloaked savior didn’t like the thought of someone innocent dying.”
    “Maybe he’s a kind person.”
    Sebastian snorted. “Go to sleep and don’t snore.”
     
     
    “W HAT DO you mean my son is gone?” King Harris demanded.
    “He snuck away, Your Majesty. He left a message saying he had to take care of a debt,” Lord Pasley said.
    “Captain Pembrost!” King Harris shouted.
    “Has also disappeared. When I told him about the prince, he grinned and said, ‘I’ll catch two rabbits.’”
    “He better know where Turren is headed. Send out a squad to track both of them.” King Harris shook his head. “How long can my son stay on his feet with poison in his system?”
    Lord Pasley shrugged. “A day or two comfortably if he doesn’t push himself.”
    King Harris sighed. “The odds of him not pushing himself are very low.”
     
     
    S EBASTIAN GLANCED across the dead fire at an empty space. Maybe the stubborn prince has taken the hint. Soft snores behind his ear killed his hope. Sebastian rolled over and Turren slept peacefully, closer than where he had retired for the night. Sebastian drummed his fingers on his blanket. I wish you would stop putting me in awkward positions. Discarding his impulse to close the prince’s nostrils, Sebastian carefully stood and searched for his bag. He spotted it on Turren’s other side, its opening clutched in the frustrating man’s fingers. It would serve him right if I dumped my water skin on his face. Instead, Sebastian bent down and gently pulled on the pillowcase. Turren’s hand dragged across the dirt, and his fingers finally opened. Sebastian lifted up the bag, and then a throat cleared.
    “All you had to do was ask.”
    Sebastian frowned at the now-awake prince. “I shouldn’t have to ask for my things.”
    Turren stretched and yawned. “It was a precaution if you tried leaving before I woke up.”
    “How could I leave a charmer like you behind?” Sebastian snatched his bag and started walking.
    “Where are we going?”
    “I’m going to see my brother,” Sebastian said.
    “The eldest Orwell? It’s been years since I’ve seen him. He chased Pratchett and me