A man and woman stumbled past now, arm in arm and laughing drunkenly.

Word clearly hadn’t reached the port.

Alucard hauled Holland down from the horse, setting him roughly on the ground. The Antari hadn’t said a word since they’d left, and the silence made Alucard nervous. Bard didn’t talk much either, but hers was a different kind of quiet, present, inquisitive. Holland’s silence hung in the air, made Alucard want to speak just to break it. Then again, maybe it was the man’s magic that set him on edge, silver threads splintering the air like lightning.

They handed the horses off to a stablehand whose eyes widened at the royal emblem blazoned on the harnesses.

“Keep your heads down,” said Kell as the boy led the mounts away.

“We are hardly inconspicuous,” said Holland finally, his voice like rough-hewn rock. “Perhaps, if you unchained me—”

“Not likely,” said Lila and Jasta, the same words overlapping in different tongues.

The air had warmed a fraction despite the thickening dark, and Alucard was looking around for the source of that warmth when he heard the approach of armored boots and caught the gleam of metal.

“Oh, look,” he said. “A welcome party.”

Whether it was because of the royal horses or the sight of the strange entourage, a pair of soldiers was heading straight toward them.

“Halt!” they called in Arnesian, and Holland had the sense to fold his cuffed hands beneath his cloak; but at the sight of Kell, the two men paled, one bowing deeply, the other murmuring what might have been a blessing or a prayer, too low for him to make out.

Alucard rolled his eyes at the display as Kell adopted an imitation of his usual arrogance, explaining that they were here on royal business. Yes, everything was well. No, they did not need an escort.

At last, the men retreated to their post, and Lila gave her own mocking bow in Kell’s direction.

“Mas vares,” she said, then straightened sharply, the humor gone from her face. With a gesture that was at once casual and frighteningly quick, she freed a knife from her belt.

“What is it?” asked Kell and Alucard at once.

“Someone’s been following us,” she said.

Kell’s brows went up. “You didn’t think to mention that before?”

“I could have been wrong,” she said, twirling the blade in her fingers, “but I’m not.”

“Where are—”

Before Kell could finish, she spun, and threw.

The knife sang through the air, eliciting a yelp as it embedded itself in a post a few inches above a crop of brown curls threaded with gold. A boy stood, back pressed to the post and empty hands raised in immediate surrender. On his forehead was a mark in blood. He was dressed in ordinary clothes, no red and gold trim, no symbols of the House Maresh emblazoned on his coat, but Alucard still recognized him from the palace.

“Hastra,” said Kell darkly.

The young man ducked out from under Lila’s blade. “Sir,” he said, dislodging the knife.

“What are you doing here?”

“Tieren sent me.”

Kell groaned, and muttered under his breath, “Of course he did.” Then, louder, “Go home. You have no business here.”

The boy—and he really was just a boy, in manner as well as age—straightened at that, puffing up his narrow chest. “I’m your guard, sir. What is that worth if I don’t guard you?”

“You’re not my guard, Hastra,” said Kell. “Not anymore.”

The boy flinched but held his ground. “Very well, sir. But if I am not a guard, then I am a priest, and my orders come from the Aven Essen himself.”

“Hastra—”

“And he’s really very hard to please, you know—”

“Hastra—”

“And you do owe me a favor, sir, since I did stand by you, when you snuck out of the palace and entered the tournament—”

Alucard’s head whipped around. “You did what?”

“Enough,” cut in Kell, waving his hand.

“Anesh,” said Jasta, who hadn’t been following the conversation and didn’t seem to care. “Come, go, I don’t care. I’d rather not stand here on display. Bad for my reputation to be seen with black-eyed princes and royal guards and nobles playing dress-up.”

“I’m a privateer,” said Alucard, affronted.

Jasta only snorted and started toward the docks. Hastra hung back, his wide brown eyes still leveled expectantly on Kell.

“Oh, come on,” said Lila. “Every ship needs a pet.”

Kell threw up his hands. “Fine. He can stay.”

* * *

“Who were you?” demanded Alucard as they walked along the docks, passing ships of every size and color. The thought of Kell entering the tournament—his tournament—was madness. The thought that Alucard had had the chance to fight him—that maybe he had—was maddening.

“It doesn’t matter,” said Kell.

“Did we fight?” But how could they have? Alucard would have seen the silver thread, would have known—

“If we had,” said Kell pointedly, “I would have won.”

Annoyance flared through Alucard, but then he thought of Rhy, the tether between the two, and anger swallowed indignation.

“Do you have any idea how foolish that was? How dangerous for the prince?”

“Not that it’s any of your business,” said Kell, “but the whole thing was Rhy’s idea.” That two-toned gaze cut his way. “I don’t suppose you tried to stop Lila?”