“You’re the bloody Princeps of Alera, man,” Max replied. “You’re the bloody role model—or at least, you’re supposed to be.”

“It’s ridiculous,” Tavi said.

“Of course it is,” Max returned. “But like it or not, that’s what the office demands. That you comport yourself in all ways and at all times as the most honorable and dignified young Citizen of the Realm.”

Tavi sighed. “And, so?”

“And so the Princeps of the Realm can’t afford things running around to embarrass him,” Max said. “Mistresses are one thing. Bastards are another.”

Max’s mouth twisted up at the word. His own father, High Lord Antillus, had conceived Max with a dancing girl he had favored. His second son, Crassus, had been born legitimately, leaving Max bereft of any sort of title or claim. Tavi knew that Max’s entire life, including his very limited acceptance from the Citizenry of the Realm, had been powerfully shaped by his lack of legitimacy.

“That really isn’t an issue, Max,” Tavi said. “There’s never been anyone but Kitai.”

The big Antillan exhaled heavily. “You’re missing the point.”

“Then maybe you should explain it to me.”

“The point is that things like who the Princeps is sleeping with matter,” Tavi’s friend replied. “Rival claims to the Crown have caused wars before, Tavi. And worse. Crows, if old Sextus had left a bastard child or two running around Alera, great furies know what might have happened after they killed your father.”

“I’ll give you that,” Tavi said. “It matters. But I’m still waiting for the point.”

“The point is that the Realm didn’t know you were Septimus’s son until last year—and even then, you were way out in the hinterlands, fighting a campaign. You didn’t exactly attract a lot of visitors.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“When we get back home, that’s going to change,” Max said. “Everyone’s going to be watching you like hawks. They’re going to pry into your life in every way you could possibly imagine, and probably in some that you can’t—and every Citizen with a daughter even vaguely close to the right age is going to be hoping to turn her into the next First Lady.”

Tavi frowned.

“You want to marry Kitai,” Max said. It wasn’t a question.

Tavi nodded.

“Then you’re going to make a lot of people upset. And they’re going to pry up every little piece of information they can get against her. They’re going to try to bring pressure to bear against her, any way that they can—and if you just carried on with her the way you have been, you’d make it easy for them to begin rallying support against you.”

“I really don’t care what they think, Max,” Tavi said.