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Sandry beamed at the pair. “Of course you may,” she told Rizu, glancing back to make sure neither Briar nor Tris was about to make a liar out of her. Briar’s eyebrows were slightly knit; Tris had that same politely interested expression she had worn that afternoon while talking with Quen and Ishabal, but neither one said anything. Sandry continued, “You never asked permission to join us at Landreg Castle, Rizu—why start now? Gudruny?”

The maid was already rearranging chairs and settings for a fifth person at the table. As soon as she finished, they all sat down to eat.

To Sandry’s relief, everyone relaxed once they were eating. They talked about the ball for the Lairan ambassador in two weeks’ time and that day’s sail. Now that they knew more people at court, Rizu could tell stories about them that the others would understand. She and Daja remained for a while after the footmen cleared away the plates, then excused themselves and left.

There was a long silence once Gudruny had retreated to her own room. Briar concentrated on the willow shakkan, Gently he urged it up from its ugly, bent-over stance, raising it to the limit the trunk could handle even with his magic to make it more flexible. Once it was as straight as he could make it for the time being, he fashioned a sleeve of heavy wire to help it keep from folding down again. Tris petted Chime as the glass dragon gave off her singing purr. Sandry peered at her embroidery and waited for one of the others to say something.

At last, Briar sat up. “Just because she has a partner now doesn’t mean the partner is one of us,” he grumbled. “You don’t see me dragging a girl everywhere.”

Tris looked at him steadily. “Have you cared enough about a girl to want us to accept her?” she asked.

Briar couldn’t meet her level gaze. “Well, Evvy,” he mumbled.

“Evvy is your student,” Tris replied quietly. “Face it, Briar, you don’t like any of your bits of entertainment enough to worry if we know who they are.”

“At least I don’t pretend Caidy ought to belong to our circle,” protested Briar.

His words were like a needle’s jab. Sandry looked up.

“We’re not a circle,” she said tartly. “Daja and I reopened our bond. You two don’t even care, so why does it matter if Daja brings Rizu?” Her mouth trembled. “They’re in love. You should be happy for them.”

“In love enough for Rizu not to tell everything she’s heard if the empress asks it?” Briar demanded hotly. “I think not. Rizu’s all right, but I think she belongs to Berenene first and anyone else second.” He looked down at his hands. All the flowers on both had sprouted tiny black roses. “Face it, Daj’ won’t be coming home with us,” he went on. “For that matter, will either of you? I’ve seen that Shan look at you when Berenene isn’t around, Sandry. And you can’t tell me they didn’t offer you good coin to stay on, Tris.”

Sandry glared at him. “The empress isn’t offering you the moon to stay?”

“The whole palace is talking about how you alone have her permission to enter the greenhouses at any time,” added Tris. “The gardeners say she’s never let anyone but herself recommend pruning, but they have orders to take such direction from you. And I’ve heard she’s offered you a bottomless purse and the post of imperial gardener if you stay.”

“You hear too festering much,” complained Briar. “How would you know, when you always hide?”

Tris looked at him over the rim of her spectacles, and tapped one ear.

“Oh.” Briar grimaced.

“These halls are chimneys for drafts and chatter, dolt,” Tris informed him firmly. “Leave Daja and Rizu be. They’ll do as they need to.”

“Daja won’t thank you for saying anything against Rizu,” Sandry reminded him.

“It’s not against her,” protested Briar.

“Is that how Daja will see it?” Sandry wanted to know.

Suddenly she felt the touch of Tris within her magic. Calm down, she said. Sandry could feel that Briar heard Tris as well, though his bond to Sandry herself was still closed. We four will always be one, whether we live together in Emelan or not, Tris told them both. You ought to have more faith.

The next two weeks were a whirlwind for all four mages, not just Sandry. The empress seemed determined to woo them with entertainment and splendor. They were caught up in a myriad of hunts—for unusual flowers and tucked-away picnics, since Lady Sandrilene did not like to hunt game—card parties, rides, breakfasts, and voyages on the Syth. Sandry noticed that even Tris could not evade them all, though she was better than the other three at vanishing. Daja and Rizu were glued together. They hardly seemed to care what they did as long as they did it in each other’s company, as Briar pointed out more than once. Occasionally they joined Sandry, Briar, and Tris for a private midday or supper. Sandry noticed that, despite his grumbles, Briar voiced no objections to Rizu’s company when Daja was present.

To Sandry’s relief, Fin said nothing about her desertion of him that night at the welcoming party. Knowing his tendency toward passion and uproar, Sandry was sure that he would kick up a fuss. She was surprised instead to find he seemed to have forgotten all about it. He continued to court her along with Jak, without making any particular effort to get her alone.

I suppose I’m inconsistent to be miffed that he doesn’t much care, she thought ruefully. Really, it would be a pain if he did get all offended, but he could at least pout a little.

She carefully did not think about Pershan fer Roth at all. It wasn’t that she didn’t see plenty of Shan—she did. He was always at Berenene’s side, or at her back, bringing her delicacies, carrying her falcon until she chose to fly it to hunt, helping her to dismount. Sandry tried not to begrudge her cousin the feel of Shan’s big hands on her waist as she slid down from the saddle, or the way he bent over the empress to feed her a cherry, but the bile of envy was very hard to ignore. If Shan remembered that he had kissed Sandry, he did not show it. The smile he gave her when she caught his eye was the polite one of one noble to another.

Serves me right, she told herself one night, punching her pillows into a more agreeable shape. Whenever she closed her eyes, she saw Shan and Berenene practicing Lairanese dance figures that day, particularly the one in which Shan lifted the empress high in the air. The man kisses me—punch, punch—and I run like a scared kitten. I bet the empress doesn’t run!

Sandry growled and stuffed her coverlet in her mouth. Now I’ll have to think of a good lie for Gudruny, she told herself. And it has to be really good, because I think Gudruny suspects far too much as is. Not that she would say anything, but she’ll just tell me some bit of woman’s wisdom about how some men are just out of a person’s reach. I don’t want to hear woman’s wisdom, or any wisdom. I just want Shan to kiss me again so I can tell if I got all wobble-kneed because I knew about Daja and Rizu or if it was the way he kisses!

The day of the Lairan ambassador’s ball, the entire palace was in chaos. Dodging servants with their arms full of burdens, Sandry and Gudruny fled the palace. Landreg House was far more peaceful. Sandry could take her midday with Ambros, Ealaga, and their girls while Gudruny visited her children.

Before she left, Sandry went in search of Zhegorz. She found him seated on the balcony outside Tris’s window, facing into the breeze that came over the walls. He had one of his metal ear beads in his hand and his strange metal spectacles on his face. “Don’t trouble yourself about me,” he said with a cheerful smile. “ Viymese Tris visits once a day for my lessons.”

“That’s good to know,” Sandry told him. “Are they going well?” He seems so much calmer now.

Zhegorz, who had been sitting on a tall stool, was getting to his feet. He was frowning as he turned this way and that, the ear with no bead in it facing into the wind. “I don’t know,” he murmured. “Why would sailors be prepared for a midnight getaway?”