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Nicostratus frowns at the canal where we first met River.

“I was nine. I was in the royal woods. Trespassing, I guess you’d say. We spent the night in the violet oak tree. It was freezing cold.”

His frown deepens.

He’s forgotten. I look away, hollering with laughter.

A hand touches my forearm. “It’s not that it wouldn’t have been memorable. I had an accident and lost a lot of childhood memories.”

“What happened?” I say, dabbing my watering eyes.

“A story for another time.” He looks away. “I like the idea we’ve met before.”

“I thought you might be a criminal. The good kind, who steals from the rich and gives to the poor.”

“I might as well be a criminal,” Nicostratus says. “I’m hunted like one.”

“You were... hunted last night?”

“Someone must’ve been spying on me during my mother’s last days. I was too distracted to notice.”

Has he even had the chance to cry for her?

Or is he like me?

“My beads caused all of this,” he says. “The pattern is supposed to match the palace, but they changed it after my mother died. Set a trap, expecting my return. My brother sent word, but it never reached me. I ended up fighting in the royal belt most of the night before sneaking into his quarters.”

“All that—” I blow out a bewildered breath “—and you still came for us? Did Skriniaris Evander tell you?”

“Evander?” Nicostratus frowns. “No. I had an aklo keeping me informed.”

I scan the forest behind us. “Do you have aklos with you now?”

“No. But I must return soon.”

I poke his arm. “Always coming and going.”Like Maskios. Always leaving too quickly.I push the thought with rough urgency to the back of my mind.

“Forgive me,” he says.

My brow quirks. “Withholding forgiveness from a prince... am I even allowed?”

Light gleams in Nicostratus’s eyes. “Finally, some good comes of this birthright.”

We share a smile, and Nicostratus points towards Frederica’s estate in the distance. “Go again to my aunt’s—”

I sit straighter. “She’s youraunt?”

“Her estate is special; a gift from her father, my grandfather, after she spent years as a hostage in Iskaldir. She has the right to govern her own hundred acres. The king cannot impose laws there. Even the high duke doesn’t dare interfere.”

“Frederica... is queen of her own kingdom?”

“She’d never call herself that. She uses the gift to help those in need. The displaced often come to her for protection until they can get proper documentation to live in the wider kingdom. She saves lives. My brother and I help when we can, and many others offer financial support.”

Like Quin the arrogant merchant?

A spluttering cackle has me doubling over.

Nicostratus pats my back. “You’re considered blessed if you give to Frederica.”