They walked in silence for a time. Aster was a picture of serenity, calmly making her way down the path towards the castle walls, partially grown fields on either side. Her inner world,however, still held the chaotic energy of her escape. She focused on the sensations of the night as Teacher Harrow had instructed her to do when she felt the panic coming on. The crickets song, the crisp air, the gentle breeze, counting each step as it landed. One, two, three, four, breath. With her racing mind beginning to calm, there was a growing exhaustion settling in her bones. Her steps slowed to a more casual pace and she came to a stop at the base of the hill. She looked up at her destination with an internal groan. It was when Anson spoke that she remembered she was not alone.

“What's on your mind, princess?” He spoke softly, trying not to startle her.

Aster hesitated for a moment, looking up at the glittering night sky.

“So you figured me out, have you? If you hadn't just saved my life I'd have to have you imprisoned for knowledge of crown secrets.” She tried to lighten the mood but her tone fell flat. The pensive look on Ansons face told her as much. “Sorry, poor time for jokes.” She looked down at her shoes, embarrassed. T

Anson dramatized his relief. “ Thank goodness, I don't know how I would survive being a fugitive of my favorite city after I escaped. I'd have to leave the country, change my name. “ He grimaced and put a hand to his head. “ Cut my hair.”

Astor smiled, then laughed. “ After you escaped? So you're a magician as well as a swordsman? You'd never stand a chance of escape otherwise.”

“A magician?” He feigned offense at the mention. “I'd never sully my good name. My companions, however, can create magics the like you've never dreamed of. They'd have me out by nightfall tomorrow.”

“Oh ho, is that right? Well I'd love to see these so called magics at work. You'll have to introduce me.” Aster looked him in the eyes now, the easy banter soothing her frayed nerves like a warm bath. “ My brother's ship is set to return from Galag in three days' time. We're planning quite the party to welcome him home. I'd love it if you and your…magician friends would accompany me.”

Anson looked shocked by her words. “I-well, who am I to decline such an invitation? I would be honored to accompany you, your royal highness.” He bowed deeply, not knowing how else to respond. He felt her hand gently urge him upright until their eyes met again.

“ Anson, regardless of my initial ruse, you have saved the life of the Crown Princess of Bar. Know this, you deserve a reward.” Her tone was serious and regal. All he could do was nod. “ I assume you are staying at the guild house in town?”

“Yes, on Paralet. We've booked it for the next two weeks under the name Thrace.”

“Good. I'll send an attendant with your official invitation and instructions in the morning. This is where we must part. I don't need the kitchen staff spreading untoward rumors if I return with a strange man in tow.”

He laughed, easing back into his charming ways. “ Oh we couldn't let that happen. I'd be ruined!”

She scoffed at that. “Goodnight, Anson.”

Stolen story; please report.

“Goodnight, Iris.”

With that, Aster turned and continued her short journey home.

----------------------------------------

It took Anson another hour and a half to make it all the way back to the guild bunk house after he left Aster on the hill. The Questers Guild was on the opposite side of Fjorna, near the south gate, and the winding streets made travel less than optimal. When he finally sauntered in with a smile plastered on his face, Grace and Tu'unda were waiting for him. Grace immediately turned to scowl at him as he entered the room they had rented.

“Greetings, my adoring compatriots, I have returned!” He announced with a flourish.

“Where in the nine hells have you been, Anson? You should have been back hours ago! You better have a good excuse.” She crossed her arms. “ And a visit to Madam Julisas is not an excuse.”

Anson gasped in mock astonishment. “You dare accuse me of such debauchery? When I come bearing gifts?” Grace raised an eyebrow at that but the scowl remained affixed. Tu'unda, who had been dutifully cleaning his axe until this point, looked up from his spot on his bunk. “Gifts? Did you actually manage to wrangle some silver out of that old curmudgeon of a smith?”

Anson laughed at that, and moved over to the table set next to the wall. “ Barely. I swear Khan gets cheaper every time we're here. But gifts I do have, and one hell of a story.” He waved his hand over the table and deposited the goods he had acquired earlier today from his dimensional storage ring. The food was still piping hot. Tu'unda immediately crossed the room ready to grab his share. “Oooo crab rolls, my favorite! You trying to sweeten me up?” he said before shoveling two crab rolls into his big toothy maw.

“Anything for you, my love.” Anson winked at the massive rugged man.

Grace rolled her eyes and grabbed her own box of fried shrimp. “Alright so what's this story? I see you got some blood on you there, so it must be good.” She sat down on the foot of her bed and punched on her shrimp. Tu'unda similarly sat cross legged on the floor with his own box and Anson pulled the chair from the desk and turned it around to complete the circle.

“So there I was, just outside The Garden, when I saw the most beautiful woman I had ever met...” Anson began to recount the events of the day to his two companions, with little interruption. When he had finished, the two sat there with mouths agape until Grace broke the silence.

“That….was a load of horseshit.”

“It's true, I swear!” protested Anson. He was standing now, arms still spread from the final announcement of the royal invitation.

“Do you think we'll get to meet Prince Callum?” Tu'unda asked with a gleam in his eye.

“Well the party is for him, and I'll be escorting his sister, so yes probably.”

“She was probably just some castle staff trying to swindle you. It's cruel to get his hopes up like that.” Grace looked at their barbarian of a friend. To say Tu'unda was a big man would be like saying there were a few stars in the sky. He hailed from the mountains of Ashriel, where giants once roamed. It was clear by his size and his stone like complexion that the blood of giants still ran strong in the Oa Oa Atonga'a family line.

“ I get to meet a real Prince! Prince Callum at that! You know he once caught an Oemniri single handedly? And he kept it! Imagine that, taking a wild Oemniri and training it to fight for you.”

“I'm telling you, the only indication I had of her lying was when she told me her name was Iris. She couldn't know when she was talking to herself that I could hear her.” Anson pleaded his case. His Instinct was the greatest of the three of them and they knew it. It wasn't perfect but it was damn good. “How would she swindle me, besides? What she marked me at Eastona's and had her two friends stage a mugging only for them to be killed? Then she offers me an invitation she cannot deliver? For what? What would she have to gain by fooling me and losing two accomplices in the process?” The look he gave Grace dared her to come up with an argument.

She snorted and looked away. “I'm not saying the robbery wasn't real, just that she's not the princess. Your lie detection has been known to falter when you're distracted by a pretty face.”

“Want to wager on it?” Anson raised an eyebrow at her. She was going to feel so stupid when she discovered he was right, and any time he could prove the know-it-all mage wrong was time well spent.

“Alright. Loser sets up camp for the next quest.” She replied, unable to resist a sure bet.

“Sets up and breaks down.” Anson countered.

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

They clasped hands to finalize the bet, neither breaking eye contact.

Tu'unda piped up. “Do you think I should bring my axe?”

They turned their heads simultaneously with a look of confused incredulousness. Grace spoke exasperatedly.

“No”