“I don’t think we’ll be leaving tomorrow,” Maralinde tells me, casting a look about the room she shares with her parents. Her clothes are all neatly folded and tucked away in her trunk, but her parents’ things are only half-packed, piled on the bed and still visible in the wardrobe.

“There’s not really all that much left to pack, unless there’s another reason,” I observe. It’s true: with the help of a maid, they could easily be ready to depart within a few hours.

Maralinde shrugs and settles onto the bench beside me, our backs pressed against the carved wooden backrest. “I think my father is angling for an extra day to talk with your mother once some of the others have left.”

I nod. It’s been a difficult few years for Mother since Father died, keeping the peace among the vassals and keeping the throne for my brother. At first, she’d been pushed and manipulated in an effort to force a marriage that would put one of their chosen lords on the throne—with the alternate possibility of being driven with her children into exile dangled over her like an executioner’s axe. She’d lowered her head meekly and outmaneuvered them all, and when she finally stood up tall and smiled at them, they knew never to underestimate her again. Not that some of them don’t still try for a gain, they’re just more careful about it now.

Maralinde’s father, though, probably wants a break on taxes or the like—something he can plead most successfully when there’s no one else around to object. Unfortunately, his family’s holdings being as small as they are, and his power among the other lords as paltry as it is, Mother is unlikely to offer him any concessions. No matter how little his taxes might mean to her, the other lords would be displeased not to have received a concession as well.

Maralinde, eyeing me sideways, laughs. “I didn’t think it would work either. Poor Father.”

“It might,” I venture. “She’s allowed concessions before.”

“Mmm, and the two of us might become the darlings of the court overnight.”

“Well, with fewer people here, it’s more likely.”

She coughs another laugh. “Always optimistic, aren’t you? It’s all right. I don’t mind being largely ignored, and I rather think you prefer it.”

“Easier that way,” I agree.

Maralinde grins and switches subjects. “Aren’t you supposed to be at your lessons right now?”

“I was late—my brother kept me. By the time I got there . . .” I shrug. Arriving to find your tutor has given up on you is never a good thing. I’d taken the time to write an apology painstakingly composed in Faransi, the language of one of our neighboring lands, and sent it by page to my tutor, but I doubt it will win his forgiveness.

“Do you think he’ll mention it to your mother? She won’t be pleased.”

“I know.” I sigh. “Why don’t we go down to the hall?” I suggest, rising to my feet. “It’s nearly lunch.”

Maralinde allows this with a knowing look. I fall into step with her as we enter the hallway, grateful for her friendship, for the questions she asks and the answers she doesn’t push for.

Most of the girls our age flock to Valka and follow her lead in treating me like a sweet but rather useless child. I would like to think that I am something better than that, but the truth is, I don’t have the coldness that politicking seems to require. I’d rather be sweet and useless than sharp and dangerous.

In the hallway below, we step to the side to allow Valka’s father, Lord Daerilin, past. He’s a large man with a wide belly and thick hands, and the most valuable lands in our kingdom.

“Ah, Alyrra, good to see you. And who is this? Little Maraleen, isn’t it?”

It isn’t and he knows it. Maralinde dips her head, her jaw tight.

“We’re just going to the hall for lunch,” I say.

“Very good.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m sure you’ll sit with Valka there, won’t you, Alyrra? She considers you such a friend of hers.”

“I do like sitting with my friends,” I say pleasantly. “But it depends on if Mother is there.”

“Quite, quite,” he says, appeased, and continues on.

Maralinde slides me an amused look as we begin walking once more.

“What?” I ask.

“You’re trickier than you let on, you know.”

I grin and offer her a small shrug. “I really do like sitting with my friends.”

We step into the hall a moment later. We’ve used the side entrance nearest the nobles’ table, just below the dais, which means we’ve also stepped right into a confrontation between Maralinde’s mother and Valka not five paces away.

“Oh.” Maralinde halts abruptly, eyes widening. I stumble to a stop just past her.

“I expected better from you,” Lady Emmanika says, her voice sharp.

Valka, facing her, nearly vibrates with fury, two bright red spots staining her cheeks, her mouth twisted in a barely contained snarl.

“You are the daughter of one our leading families. You are placed above so many others here. The servants are here to serve you, certainly, but you have a responsibility to them as well. Or did you think you are only meant to receive and never to serve in return?”

“I know my place,” Valka says haughtily, lifting her chin. “I know exactly what I deserve. You ought to know what you risk by saying such things to me!”

Lady Emmanika raises her brows. “I risk a great deal more by not speaking at all. Now, do not make a scene. There are others arriving, and there’s no need for anyone to know what either of us has said. I see no need to speak of it, so long as you strive to improve yourself.”

“Oh indeed,” Valka sneers, and turns on her heel. Her gaze falls on Maralinde and me, and I find myself stepping back from the glittering wrath in her eye. I hope, oh how I hope, Maralinde and her family leave in the morning.

Valka doesn’t speak as she nears, she just strides right between us, giving Maralinde a shove to the side as she passes.

“Mother?” Maralinde asks uncertainly as Valka disappears through the doorway. I take my friend’s hand, and that seems to bring her back to herself. She crosses to the table with me in tow.

Emmanika breathes a sigh as we join her. “It’s nothing, dear. But I do hope your father will be ready to leave tomorrow. The less time you spend around that child, the better.” She glances at me and smiles faintly. “Ah, Alyrra. Will you be sitting with us this afternoon?”

“Perhaps,” I say, as I always do. “If Mother doesn’t come.”

“Of course,” Emmanika says, and hails a servant to ask if the queen will dine in the hall this afternoon.

The following morning, I make absolutely certain I will not be late for my lessons. I send for a breakfast tray as soon as I wake, and am dressed and ready for it by the time it arrives. Since Mother takes breakfast in the main hall only when all our vassals are present, it’s relatively safe to assume she’s dining in her rooms this morning, or perhaps in a withdrawing room with a few chosen nobles. Either way, she doesn’t require my presence.

One slice of hearty brown bread with a serving of cheese and a boiled egg later, I slip out, padding softly past my brother’s room and through the halls to the other wing where my tutor will be. If he has forgiven me yet.

I pass Maralinde and her parents on their way to the hall for breakfast, as well as a handful of other nobles, one of whom detains me to ask if my mother will be joining us—as if she truly did not know—and then, much more to the point, if I can say why Maralinde’s family has stayed back, and surely I must know something?

I duck my head. “‘Fraid not,” I say apologetically. “Perhaps Lady Emmanika can tell you?”

My questioner rolls her eyes, pats me on the head, and finally lets me go. I turn the corner, pass the open doors of the temple, and take the stairs up to the hallway above. Here lie the remaining nobles’ bedrooms, as well as the meeting rooms, and there, in the very middle of the hall, stands Valka, her head tilted as she studies something in her hand. A bauble of some sort, no doubt. Her father is always gifting her small pieces.

She doesn’t notice me at first, and so I am only a few paces away when she hears my footsteps and looks up with a start, her fingers curling over a glitter of gold and blue. A sapphire? That’s a pricey bit of jewelry indeed.

“Oh, it’s you,” she says with evident relief, and stuffs the trinket into her skirt pocket. “What are you doing here this early? Everyone’s at breakfast.”

“You’re not,” I point out helpfully.

“I’m going, silly.”

“I’ve already eaten.”

Valka shrugs, an elegant and yet contemptuous shift of her shoulders, and starts past me. “Can’t be helped if you won’t eat with the rest of us. Perhaps you’ll grace us with your presence at lunch.”

“That’s not—” I bite off the rest of my words with a grimace as her laugh rings through the air. I should know by now not to take her words, her mockery, seriously.

“You’re such a goose,” Valka says, and disappears down the stairs.

I stand a moment, listening as the pat-pat of her slippers fades away. Valka’s rooms aren’t in this hall; Lord Daerilin is one of Mother’s most important vassals and his family has rooms beside ours. So what was she doing here, looking at her jewelry? Had she come to show it off to someone? But no, then she likely would have shown me too.

I glance around once, but the doors are closed, the hallway quiet. The only sounds are the faint murmur of voices and the occasional thump from the main hall, filled with diners.

Never mind. Whatever little intrigues Valka is playing at she can keep to herself. I don’t want her secrets, told to me or discovered on my own.