Saf wasn't sure what he had expected, but it wasn't to somehow have gotten mixed up in the official delegation from Monsea and Lienid as, well, an official person. Surely that was the job of people who were not thieves, or at least not him. But it was also idiotic to try to travel through the tunnels alone when there was a perfectly large party with perfectly good supplies and a better idea of where they were going, so he tried very hard not to protest too much.

Skye sought him out from the start, and it struck Saf as somehow utterly hilarious that between sleeping with the Lady Queen and doing anything Prince Po had asked, he had overcome all of his own objections to the difference in stations where royalty was concerned. He didn't mind when the Prince sat down, and shared his meals, and didn't mind being drawn into discussions with Skye and the Dellians. He found he had a small knack for the language.

He didn't even mind when the tunnels got so damply chill and unpleasant that Skye slipped close in the night and held him, warm against his back. Nor when Skye kissed him the next morning.

He did rather mind that he seemed to have an ongoing issue with Lienid grey eyes and royalty and sharing their beds, but then Skye grinned, and Saf forgot what he'd been about to say.