He smiled, perhaps at her visible confusion. “So you remember me. Then you may also remember that I suggested you see something of the world, my lady. I did not think you would take my advice quite so much to heart. You have become a stage-player now?”

She suddenly realized others were watching, not all of them from her troupe. “Quiet,” she whispered. “I am not supposed to be a girl, let alone a princess.”

“Passing as a boy?” he murmured. “Oh, I hardly think anyone would believe that. But what are you doing here in such unlikely guise and company?”

She stared at him, suddenly mistrustful. “I will ask the same of you. Why are you not in Hierosol? Have you left Ludis Drakava’s service?”

He shook his head. “No, my lady, although many wiser than me have already done so…” He looked up and past her, his eyes narrowing. “But what is this?”

The tavern keeper Bedoyas and both Makewells were coming across the tavern yard toward the company, but it was their escort—a dozen guardsmen wearing the crests of city reeves—that had caught Dawet’s eye. For a moment Briony only stared, then realized that she of all of them had the most to lose if captured or arrested for some reason. She eyed the nearest ways out of the yard but it was hopeless: the guards had already surrounded them.

A heavy-faced soldier wearing an officer’s sash across his tunic stepped forward. “You of the players’ company known as Makewell’s Men, you are remanded in arrest to His Majesty the king’s custody.” The captain saw Dawet and scowled. “Ah. You, too, fellow. I was told to look for a southern darkling, and here you are.”

“You would be wise to watch your tongue, sir,” said Dawet with smooth venom, but he made no move to resist.

“Arrested?” Finn Teodoros’ voice had an anxious squeak to it. “Under what charge?”

“Spying, as you well know,” said the captain. “Now you will be introduced to His Majesty’s hospitality, which I think will be a little less to your liking than that of Master Bedoyas. And entertain no thoughts of daring escape, you players—this is no play. I have half a pentecount more of soldiers waiting outside.”

“Spying?” Briony turned to Dawet. “What are they talking about?” she whispered.

“Say nothing,” he told her under his breath. “No matter what happens or what they tell you. They will try to trick you.”

She put her head down and let herself be herded with the others. Estir Makewell and young Pilney were both weeping. Others might have been, but it was hard to tell, because rain had started to fall.

“I’m afraid I cannot go with you,” Dawet said loudly.

Briony turned, thinking he spoke to her. He had drawn himself back against a wall of the courtyard, a knife suddenly twinkling in his gloved fingers. “What are you doing?” she demanded, but Dawet did not even look at her.

“Enough of your nonsense, black,” said the captain. “Were you Hiliometes himself you could not overcome so many.”