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He watched her face. "And then?"

Her eyes flickered. Just briefly. The teal surfacing and receding like something glimpsed underwater.

"Then it all begins," she said.

She pulled on her clothes without hurrying.

"I will walk you back," he said.

She looked at him. "You do not need to."

He was already reaching for his cloak.

They walked in silence, the corridor empty at this hour, his hood up, his face hidden. She did not take his arm. He did not offer it. Their footsteps were the only sound.

At the door to the main castle she stopped and turned to him.

She looked down briefly, then up. "Was she…did she please you tonight? Was her performance what you needed?"

He was quiet.

"What gave me pleasure," he said, "was knowing I would see you afterward."

She didn’t look away. Then she rose onto her toes and pressed a kiss to his jaw.

"Goodnight," she said quietly.

She turned toward the corridor that led deeper into the royal wing.

"Your quarters are not that way," he said. "The hour is late."

"I know," she said, and kept walking.

He stepped back into the shadow and watched her go.

She stopped at a door near the end of the corridor and knocked twice, lightly. The knock of someone who belonged there, who had knocked on this door a hundred times before.

A pause. Then the door opened.

Asharin stood in the gap, blinking sleep from her eyes, golden hair loose around her shoulders.

"Maridale?" she said. "What are you doing up at this hour?"

She smiled. "I came to see if you needed fresh linens, my lady. I heard the evening ran late."

Asharin gave an exaggerated sigh. “You spoil me. I do not want linens from you, but I do wish to tell you about the ball.” Then she stepped back to let her in.

Tamal pulled his hood forward and walked back the way he had come.

Part One

CHAPTER 1

Six Thirty-Four

RATHMOR PALACE

The Great Hall