Sir Baramon’s eyes went quite wide. “Well, then. I see why he’s so upset with you.”

“No, I suspect he harbors a grudge—because just after our engagement, he behaved like a thorra, and I gave him a lesson in manners.” Janel frowned. “He wanted me to bow to him, and I refused. So he tried to force me.”

“Oh aye,” Dorna chortled. She leaned over to Sir Baramon and said, “I hear she broke both Oreth’s arms and dragged him by his feet into his father’s bedroom. Oh, I wish I could’ve been there.” She made a face. “But I ain’t welcome around the Stavira estate.”

“My point is that he thinks I should owe him thudajé,” Janel explained, waving a hand disdainfully. “When he returned after my grandfather died, he gave me a choice: marry him, agree to accept my place as a mare, and make him count, or … or the alternative was paying off the people he’d already bribed to declare Censure on me. Since I had no way to do that, I left.”

“What was your plan? Keep moving until he grew tired of the chase?” Sir Baramon frowned at the young woman.

“No!” Janel paused. “All right … yes. But Sir Oreth cannot sustain this forever. Oreth thought he could march in with his soldiers and keep me prisoner until the Censure finished. He thought it would take a week. The longer I drag this out, the more bribes Oreth must maintain, and the more his father’s patience erodes. Markreev Aroth may have vaults of metal to spend, but that does not mean he’d do so willingly.”

“Aroth’s always been shrewd with the finances.” Dorna rolled the dice. “I win again.”

“Damn it, Mare!” Sir Baramon scowled.

Dango shook his head. “Nobody’s that lucky.”

“I don’t like it,” Dorna said. “Going to Atrine is too risky. Best if you stay away from the capital altogether.” She paused. “You know your letters. Send a note. Hello, Duke Xun, I hope this letter finds you well. Sorry I couldn’t visit. By the way, evil plots are being hatched in Barsine. You should do something about that. Love, Janel.”

Janel shook her head. “Letters can be ignored, mislaid, fall into the wrong hands. And if we travel by foot—which we will have to do since we sent all our four-legged friends away—we will reach Atrine around the same time as the Great Tournament. Attending that tournament is mandatory for all nobles ranked warden or greater. I might avoid Oreth, only to have Duke Xun strip me of rank for failing to pay my respects. I have no choice.”

“That just means Oreth is counting on you attending,” Dorna insisted.