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“Then everyone would
know
how stupid I am,” he retorted.

“They already know,” she said, laughing when he stuck his tongue out at her.

“Don’t worry, there’s a pattern,” said Liramelli. “The first turn is a left, but then you take right turns the whole way until you get to the center.”

“Even
you
ought to be able to remember that,” Corene said to Steff.

“I was thinking I ought to write it down for
you
,” he answered.

Liramelli glanced back at them, appearing slightly amused and slightly appalled. “You two argue like brother and sister,” she said.

“That’s about right,” Corene replied. “His brother is in love with my sister.”

“But maybe that means you should be flirting instead of fighting.”

“He liked me when he first met me,” Corene remarked. “He was falling all over himself to be nice—it was all
Princess Corene
this and
Princess Corene
that. He’d never been off the farm, you know, and I was the first royalty he’d ever met. But
now
—”

Steff was grinning. “But now that I’m surrounded by princesses and high-born women, I’m not so impressed,” he said. “Anyway, she treats me like a servant. Like I’m only useful when I’m not annoying.”

“Actually, that’s not true,” Corene said. “I’m nicer to the servants than I am to you.”

“I think I was right the first time,” Liramelli said. “You act like brother and sister.”

“I’m sure that would make Garameno happy,” Corene said dryly. “He doesn’t seem to want any more romantic competition from Filomara’s other heirs.”

Almost on the words they stepped into the center of the maze. It was a pretty little clearing, featuring a gazebo built around a small, playful fountain. Though the rest of the hedge had been a determined and unrelieved green, red and purple flowers flourished around the outside of the white gazebo and twined up the wooden slats of its walls.

“Well, isn’t this lovely,” Corene exclaimed. “Worth the risk of getting lost trying to find it.”

“Greggorio and I used to come here all the time. I still do, when I want to be alone,” Liramelli said. “Almost no one else ever goes to the trouble of walking the maze, so I usually have the place to myself.”

They stepped inside the welcome shade of the gazebo and took seats on the bench that made a semicircle around the fountain. The maze itself was torz, Corene decided, but the gazebo was all coru. An unexpected favorite spot for a girl like Liramelli. Corene inspected her with interest, as if seeing the broad, honest face and the clear, direct eyes for the first time. “What do you think, Steff?” she asked. “Wouldn’t Liramelli be elay?”

“That’s what I’ve thought from the beginning,” he agreed.

“I don’t know what that means.”

“I told you that in Welce we all claim some affiliation with the elements. Elay people are creatures of air and spirit, and they have all these admirable traits like honor and kindness. They just reek with goodness. Like my sister Josetta.”

Steff was grinning. “Yeah, but don’t forget that some of them are locked-in-the-madhouse crazy, too, like Kayle Dochenza.”

“I don’t think Liramelli is that kind of elay.”

“Too bad there isn’t a temple here—we could draw blessings for her,” Steff said.

“I think there is, though,” Liramelli said. “There’s an international district not far from the wharf where you can buy food from at least ten different countries. It’s called the Little Islands. It also has all these sanctuaries and shrines, and I’m pretty sure there’s a Welchin temple.”

“We don’t need a temple, because my sister sent me a whole set of blessings,” Corene said. “I’ve been drawing one every morning just to feel close to her.”

Steff jabbed her with his elbow. “Oh, thanks for telling me that! Maybe
I
would have liked to pull a coin now and then, but I didn’t know you had your own private blessing barrel in your room.”

“Well, come on in before dinner, then, and pull as many as you like.”

“What do the blessings tell you?” Liramelli asked.

“They just—if you feel like you need guidance for the day. If you need some kind of inspiration or—or—well, it’s hard to explain, really,” Corene said. “They just make you feel better.”

Steff scooped up a dead branch that lay under the stone bench and began stripping it of its withered berries, then tossing them one by one into the fountain. “So what did you draw for this morning’s blessing?” he asked. “Since this would have been a good day to have some guidance.”

She laughed. “It was surprise,” she said. “So I guess I should have known.”

“I’m worried about Alette,” Liramelli said seriously. “Is it even safe to leave her alone? Someone who would jump off a tower could find a lot of other ways to kill herself.”

“What did you think of Garameno’s idea?” Steff asked. “Alette and Greggorio?”

Corene elbowed him sharply, but it didn’t have the desired effect. “What?” he demanded. “What did I say?”

Liramelli smiled sadly. “She thinks it will break my heart to hear of Greggorio pursuing other women.”

“Well, you’ll just have to get over that,” said Steff, insensitive as ever. Corene wanted to hit him. “From everything I hear, he’s never going to be the kind of man who settles down with one woman, so you either accept that about him or you stop caring about him. It never does any good to hope people will change.”

Corene changed her mind about hitting him; that was actually pretty good advice. “I vote that you stop caring about him,” she said. “Just wash your hands of all the royal men! Let’s concentrate on finding you a nice rich boy who also happens to be handsome. And thoughtful. And interesting to talk to. Maybe you’ll meet one at the gala, whenever Filomara decides to hold it.”

“Hey, wait. I’m one of the royal men,” Steff said. “She doesn’t have to wash her hands of
me
.”

“She’s got too much sense to be interested in you,” Corene informed him.

“Just because you don’t have
enough
sense to be interested—”

Liramelli was laughing. “I will be happy to keep Steffanolo on my list of potential husbands if he keeps me on his list of potential brides,” she said.

“Well, if I had to choose from the ones gathered here at the palace, I’d pick you first,” he said frankly. “I mean—Alette? The crazy woman? I don’t think so.” He jerked a thumb at Corene. “And you can see how well
we
get along.”

“I would expect Melissande to be the one everyone falls in love with,” Liramelli said with a little sigh. “She’s so beautiful and—and delightful. I always feel like a giant lump when she’s in the room.”

“Everybody feels like they’re a giant lump when she’s in the room,” he assured her. “She’s much too sophisticated. It’s very intimidating.”

“So you can see how pleased you should be when he calls you his top choice,” Corene said. “It’s not that he actually
likes
you, it’s that everyone else has a flaw he can’t abide.”

“I noticed that,” Liramelli said. Her voice was grave but her eyes were dancing. “I’ll try not to be too flattered.”

Steff sighed heavily. “This is why it’s impossible to talk to women,” he said. “They twist everything you say.”

“Well, if you didn’t say stupid things—”

The conversation went on like that for the next half hour, until the angle of the sun reminded them that they were perilously close to the dinner hour. As they came to their feet and followed Liramelli out through the hedge, Corene reflected that this had been the most relaxed and happy space of time she had spent since she arrived in Malinqua. It surprised her. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed her easy camaraderie with Steff during all the days he was closeted with Filomara—and she hadn’t expected the reserved and solemn Liramelli to be someone she would enjoy getting to know.

Actually, she’d never had much experience with making friends, so she hadn’t realized how pleasant it could be to have some. It had just been one more thing she didn’t think she needed.

One more thing she’d been wrong about.

•   •   •

E
milita fussed and scolded, but worked efficiently even so, with the result that Corene was dressed and ready for the evening meal in record time. She excused the maid, then knocked on Foley’s door to let him know she was going down to dinner. And to snatch a moment to discuss the events of the day.

“I’m so distressed about Alette,” she said. “Why do you think she might have done such a thing?”

“People can have a lot of reasons for not wanting to live anymore.”

“Garameno thought she might be pregnant.”

Foley nodded again. “I heard that theory down at the stables.”

“He all but accused Greggorio of seducing her.”

“Maybe,” Foley said. “Or maybe she left a lover behind in Dhonsho. Or maybe—” He paused, looking troubled.

“What?”

“Someone here could have assaulted her, and she was too ashamed to speak up.”

Entirely without warning, Corene was flooded with fury. “You’re right,” she exclaimed. “She’s alone in a place that she clearly hates—she has no one to protect her and no one to turn to if something goes wrong. And there are always men who will prey on young women and think no one will punish them for what they do.”

Foley looked down at her and she saw remorse and compassion on his face. “Like your stepfather,” he said, “who came after you.”

Corene repressed a shudder. She hadn’t realized Foley knew that story—then again, she’d taken steps to make sure
everyone
knew it, so she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. “I had protectors, though,” she said. “I had people I could tell and places I could run to.”

“You wouldn’t have had to run,” Foley said. “If I’d been assigned to you back then.”

“Really? In my mother’s own house?” she said. “You’d have stood guard at my bedroom door?”

“If you’d needed me.”

“You wouldn’t have known. No one knew, except some of the maids.”

“I would have known.”

She narrowed her eyes and looked up at him, assessing. But his face was perfectly serious, his gaze level. “What exactly would you have done,” she asked slowly, “to keep him away from me?”

“Whatever I had to do,” he said.

“You’d have—punched him in the face?” she guessed. “Stabbed him in the ribs?”

“Thrown him out a window. Any of those things,” Foley said.

“But he could have had you arrested for assaulting him.”

Foley shrugged.

“Although,” she went on, “the instant my father knew
why
you’d assaulted him, you’d have been out of prison.”

“Even if I rotted in a cell, I still would have done it to keep you safe from him.”

The words sent a warm rush all the way down her spine, but she laughed it away. “Now I wish you’d been stationed at my mother’s house! I would have liked to see you beat up Dominic Wollimer.”

He smiled faintly. “If we ever go back to Welce,” he said, “I’ll do it anyway, if you like.”

She was still laughing when Steff stepped out of his room. “Oh, good, I thought I was late,” he said. “Let’s go down to dinner.”

•   •   •

T
o no one’s surprise, Alette was not at the meal, which was even more silent and uncomfortable than most dinners at the royal palace. This evening, there were no outsiders present, only Filomara, her nephews, Melissande, Steff, and Corene.

Filomara set the tone at the beginning by saying flatly, “You will oblige me by not speculating on the unfortunate actions of Princess Alette while we are trying to enjoy our food.” Since no one could think of a single other topic, the table was almost wholly silent. Even Melissande and Jiramondi, the two easiest conversationalists, gave up after a few attempts and just concentrated on their meals.

“Steffanolo, I’d like to speak with you,” Filomara said as the strained dinner finally came to an end and everyone pushed away from the table. Corene noticed the sudden intense interest of the empress’s three nephews, but no one said anything as Steff merely nodded and followed her out the door.

Corene was the next one to leave, and was unsurprised to find Melissande at her heels. They walked in silence to Corene’s room and then collapsed on the pretty furniture.

“This day! So terrible from start to finish!” Melissande exclaimed.

“So what happened to Alette?” Corene demanded. “What did she say to you?”

“Very little,” Melissande answered with a sigh. “While we were traveling home she was sobbing too much to speak, and once we returned to her room, other people joined us right away. Her maid was there and some woman with a cup of keerza—which I suspect contained drugs that would make her sleep.”

“Do you think she’s pregnant? That’s Garameno’s theory.”

“It would be. But I did not get the sense that that was her concern.”

“Will she try to kill herself again?”

“That is my greatest fear,” Melissande admitted. “But I do not think she will be given the freedom to try it. Her maid will most certainly be
sleeping in her room now, and I imagine discreet Malinquese spies will trail her wherever she goes.”

“Maids fall sleep,” Corene said. “Spies can be outwitted. If she’s eager enough for death, she’ll find a way.”

Melissande spread her hands in an eloquent gesture of uncertainty. “It is not a way I think I would ever choose,” she said, unwontedly serious. “Would you?”

“I’m more likely to lash out at someone else than hurt myself,” Corene agreed. “But if I felt totally powerless? And greatly afraid? I might. It would depend on how deep the pain was.”

“I think you have just described how Alette feels.”

“Then we should do what we can to let her know she’s
not
powerless and shouldn’t be afraid.”

Melissande’s light laugh was incredulous. “If you think that, Corene, you have not been paying attention. We
are
powerless—the three of us. We are closely watched and oddly isolated. We have complete freedom within the palace, but none outside it, so much so that the palace might almost be considered a prison. Surely you must have noticed.”