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I looked back over my shoulder. “There are two men arguing around the corner, and one of them has a knife.”

The matron frowned. “Hurry out and join the dinner. I will see what kind of trouble Sebastianus is causing.”

I curtsied and went to join the others, wondering how the matron knew the Archidux was the one causing the trouble.

OUT ON THE terrace, a long table had been laid. Vases of fragrant purple lilacs stood at intervals along the white cloth, filling the terrace with a sweet scent. A trio of musicians— kithara, lyre, and bells—played quietly at a distance. I found my seat and spotted Kyra several places down. Our eyes met, and her tense shoulders relaxed with relief.

“We meet again,” the man to my right said as I turned to greet him. It was the medal-decorated gentleman I had met the night before. He beamed. “Aren’t you a lovely little morsel.”

A chime sounded, and he pulled my chair out in a copy of the movements happening all along the table.

I sat down, already feeling a twinge of annoyance. “Good evening. Have you been enjoying your stay in Corlivo?”

“Oh, my, yes. I come back every year for four weeks, and I find it very refreshing. Leaves me quite breathless, and I don’t just mean the altitude.” He winked and picked up his goblet.

I lifted my own cup and then put it down again. I had better keep my wits about me.

He leaned in and said in a hoarse whisper, “I’ve always heard the apprenticeship period involves training in certain delicate and intimate matters? Is that a difficult area of study?” He shifted his heavy frame slightly in his chair as he watched my face.

I felt a blush creep across my forehead. “I’m sure it won’t be difficult, sir, with such considerate company.”

“Oh, come on. Tell me. You really haven’t, ah, learned anything about that yet?” He reached a heavy hand over and squeezed my thigh.

I gasped in surprise, shifting my leg away. “I’m afraid I have nothing more to say about it.”

“Well, when the time comes for instruction, I’ll certainly volunteer.” He laughed heartily, showing several gold teeth. “I’ve helped several girls here learn their lessons.”

The idea that this man was so aware of my ignorance was intolerable. It wasn’t that I didn’t understand what was expected of us at the pleasure house. Any girl trained at the Schola Morum understood the life of a courtesan. To my frustration, though, the precise details had been purposely omitted. Everyone knew that this gap in our knowledge made tirae particularly valuable to those who sought us out.

“Oh, you’d be surprised at how much I’ve already learned,” I said recklessly. There. Let him wonder about that.

He frowned, clearly confused, but whatever he was going to say was interrupted by the arrival of the first course: a small cup of roasted quince in syrup.

I quickly changed the subject. “Do you care for quince, sir? I find I just love the taste of it. And did you know the leaves have medicinal purposes?”

“Ah, well. I do like quince, now and again.” He looked at me with a furrowed brow. “Although I must be cautious about rich foods. My digestion isn’t what it once was.”

I dug into my own fruit with a small silver spoon. “How difficult that must be.”

“Indeed, my dear, only just the other day I experienced the most irksome—”

The warm quince was delicious, and as he talked, I nodded in a pantomime of interest while taking the opportunity to look up and down the table. I couldn’t see either the Archidux or Clemens Fabius. What had they been fighting about?

I was skimming the bottom of the cup to get the last drops of syrup when the chime sounded. A scraping noise indicated that other women were moving back their chairs and preparing to change places for the following course.

I made my way to the next place, grateful to be leaving that man behind.

My new companion explained in a heavy accent that he was a merchant who dealt in precious gems. The jewels sparkling on every finger of his hands suggested that his business had made him very prosperous. He talked about his trade, and the sorrel-and-basil salad course passed quickly enough.

At the next chime, I found myself seated next to Lord Clemens Fabius. When had he joined the dinner? He seemed calm and unruffled, showing no hint of what I had seen in the hall. He greeted me with a toothy smile and a few blinks of his gray eyes. “Ah, and you’re one of Valentina’s little charges. Delightful.”

“Are you enjoying your stay?”

“Why, yes, indeed.” He sipped his soup.

Perhaps I had been too quick to judge him. After all, here was my chance to learn firsthand something of the life of an adventurer. I took a deep breath. “Sir, I understand you are an explorer. Might you tell me something about your travels?”

He swallowed another spoonful of broth and surveyed me over his thin, freckled nose. “Exploring is a complicated, difficult business. It’s not for women.”