Paris came to the training ground at the fourth hour.
Not the gate — he came through it. All the way in, to the center of the practice marks, and stood there.
Lysander was mid-sequence. He finished it. The tenth repetition of the advanced form — the weight forward before the sword, the footwork at the second position. He had it clean nine times in ten now. The tenth was within reach.
He lowered the sword.
Paris was looking at the practice marks under his feet. The accumulation of mornings.
"Tell me," Lysander said.
Paris looked up.
"I want to go west," he said.
The training ground was quiet.
"Not as a prince," Paris said. "As a merchant. Ampelos's network has commercial contacts in the western coalition. I can travel as part of a trading arrangement — the coastal freight correspondence, the Carian connection, a legitimate commercial purpose."
"And the actual purpose."
