Tavin clapped a hand over his cousin’s mouth. “Are you a special kind of stupid?” he demanded under his breath. “What part of ‘think about your next move’ was unclear?” The guard scowled at him. Tavin didn’t budge. “I’m going to let you down, and then you’re going to do us both a favor and shut up so you can listen very, very carefully to what I want you to do.”

The guard nodded, and Tavin stepped back. Fie checked over her shoulder for onlookers, but none of the shoppers nearby had so much as glanced their way.

“I thought you’d come alone,” the guard mumbled. “Not with—him. Or your honey rag there. Since when do you suck Crow sugar—”

And back up against the wall the Hawk guard went, face-first this time.

Tavin’s voice turned to the razor-sharp calm that warned of thin ice. “I suppose ‘shut up and listen’ was a tall order, but do it for your country, all right? I want you to tell Sergeant Bernai that you saw Crows in the market—those exact words—at the end of your shift. And then I want you to forget we talked. And if you can’t do that, at least keep your miserable mouth shut. Now, what are you going to do for your country, cousin?”

“Tell the sergeant I saw you—”

Tavin cleared his throat.

“—that I saw Crows in the market … And tell only the sergeant.”

“That’s the patriot I know.” Tavin let him go again. “You should also tell your sergeant the fifth-gate guards won’t let travelers pass without bribes.”

“And?” His cousin shrugged. “The third and fourth gates don’t, either.”

“And that’s illegal.” Jasimir’s voice burst over Fie’s shoulder. “The law says citizens should come and go as they please. I’ve never been charged at the first gate. Nobody else should pay, either.”

Tavin’s cousin eyed the prince, then saluted, face blank. “As you wish, Your—sir. I’ll tell my sergeant about the gates.”

Fie traded a look with Tavin. Both of them knew plain what that meant: he’d tell the sergeant indeed, and the sergeant wouldn’t do a damned thing.

“First tell him you saw Crows,” Tavin said, sounding too much like Pa. “Then keep your mouth shut. And stop embarrassing the Markahns.” He hiked his hood up. “Let’s get out of here.”

No one spoke until they’d made the descent back to Third Market. At the base of the stairs, Tavin caught at Fie’s arm, drawing her back to an alcove.

“That wasn’t the first time, was it?” he asked, face taut with anger. The prince tilted his head, but Fie got Tavin’s meaning clear enough.

She met Tavin’s gaze, then pointedly looked to where his hand still curled around her forearm, just as his cousin’s had.