“Let’s go back to the palace,” Malachite growls. “You need to rest.”

“What I need is a friend, not a second mother.” Lucien chuckles. His obsidian eyes focus on me. “Who exactly are you looking for?”

“How do you know I’m looking for someone?” I sniff.

“You were asking vendors questions. The only time anyone does that is when they’re looking for someone.”

“For all you know, I could be looking for something,” I argue.

“Like what?” Lucien quirks a brow behind his cowl.

“A warm bowl of soup, maybe,” I offer.

“A sense of dignity,” Malachite counteroffers.

“A sense of humor,” I fire back at him. “Since you seem to have lost yours.”

“Lost? No,” Malachite scoffs. “You stole it from me right around the same time you tried to kill my best friend, sarvett.”

“Ooh.” I smile at his beneather word. “I like the sound of that one. What does it mean?”

“Conniving cave scorpion.” Malachite smiles back at me for once.

“Enough.” Lucien’s princely voice cuts between us. “As much as I enjoy watching you two fight over me like toddlers over a sweetround, I am supposed to be in bed. We have limited time before someone notices I’m gone.” He looks to me. “So. How can we help?”

“We?” Malachite squawks incredulously.

“By leaving me alone, and sleeping.” I turn on my heel. “Oh, and be sure to drink all the medicine the polymaths tell you to.”

“I will,” he agrees, catching up with my stride easily. “Just as soon as I’ve found who you’re looking for.”

“Because you’re nosy.” I sigh, trying not to notice just how close his body is to mine, his chest just behind my shoulder. I can almost feel his heat.

“Nosiness, caring.” He waves a hand. “It’s all the same thing.”

“It’s really not.”

“Now.” He ignores me imperiously. “Hurry up and tell me who you’re after. Your prince can find them. But your prince is also a very busy person.”

“If I do, will you leave me alone?”

“Verily,” he agrees.

“Gavik,” I say. “He’s in a gray robe—”

“Handing out bread, right,” Lucien finishes for me. “I know.”

I watch him walk to the mouth of the alleyway.

“Luc,” Malachite exhales. “We really don’t have time for this—”