“With all due respect, Your Majesty, I do not think it unbecoming of a prince to care for

the welfare of his people.”

The king laughed. “No, I daresay it is not. What is unbecoming is a fickleness of
character and an unwillingness to speak the truth to those who know you best.”
Kamran stiffened, heat prickling along the nape of his neck. He knew a rebuke when he
heard one, and he was not yet immune to the effects of an admonishment from his
grandfather. “Your Highness—”
“You have walked among your people for some time now, Kamran. You've seen all
manner of suffering. I might accept an explanation of idealism more readily were your
actions symptomatic of a larger philosophical position, which we both know they are not,
as you've never before taken an active interest in the lives of street children⠀”or
servants, for that matter. Certainly there is more to this story than the sudden expansion
of your heart.” A pause. “Do you deny that you acted out of character? That you put
yourself in danger?”
“I will not attempt to deny the first. As to the second⠀””
“You were alone. Unarmed. You are heir to an empire that spans a third of the known
world. You solicited the help of passersby, put yourself at the mercy of strangers⠀””
“I had my swords.”
Zaal smiled. “You persist in insulting me with these ill-considered protests.”
“I mean no disrespect—”
“And yet you are aware, are you not, that a man in possession of a sword is not
invincible? That he might be attacked from above? That he might be slain by arrow, that
he might be mobbed or overrun, that he might be knocked on the head and dragged
away for ransom?”
Kamran bowed his head. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Then you accept that you acted out of character. That you put yourself in danger.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Very good. I am asking now only for your explanation.”
Kamran took a deep breath and exhaled, slowly, through
his nose. He considered telling the king what he'd told Hazan: that he'd involved himself
in the situation because the girl had appeared to him conspicuous, untrustworthy. And
yet, Hazan had all but laughed at his explanation, at his instinct that something was
amiss. How might Kamran forge into words the influence of an intuition invisible to the
eye?
Indeed the more he deliberated, the more the prince's justifications, which had earlier
struck him as cogent, seemed now, under the searing gaze of his grandfather, as
scattered as sand.
Quietly, Kamran said, “I have no explanation, Your Majesty.”
The king hesitated at that, the smile evaporating from his eyes. “You cannot mean it.”
“I beg you will forgive me.”